


Hope Overnight

by IwriteDreams



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Super Dangan Ronpa 2.5
Genre: Does Hinata Hajimeme does socialize?, F/M, Fluff, Gays? In my fanfictions? It's more likely then you think., Kinda?, M/M, Makoto and Hinata are bros, Pining, Slow Burn, does nagito komeada is gay?, overall desperation, overall p innocent, so much pining, thirsty bois
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12181971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IwriteDreams/pseuds/IwriteDreams
Summary: Hinata wonders if everything they've said would be received well- in the event that Nagito had never left. Had he still been there, only listening in, and... He would probably open the door carefully, hair still a mess, clinging onto his own baggy jacket sleeves with his arms crossed, ashamed yet determined. Maybe he'd wrap his bony arms around Hinata, pulling him into a stiff embrace. He could practically feel it, the way they'd sway with Nagito whispering his undying forgiveness. They'd kiss, and his metal fingers would drift down to his hip, and they'd murmur between them...“Hinata?”Hinata jumped, his heart lurching. "I'm not gay.”





	1. Chapter 1

Hinata isn't sure which word he would use for it, even only in theory. 'Recovery definitely wouldn't be his first choice. The word 'recovery' makes them seem more like traumatized cattle than people- clueless and led about by their necks. Powerless to the outside fight.

'Recovery' may actually a good word for it. But Hinata doesn't like that it fits so well. 

Hinata would've preferred the phrase: 'Coping, a mechanism'. Everything seems about as lifeless as a machine anyways. More accurate than 'coping' is 'The process of getting better for a group of people so ruined that even the survivors of an entire apocalypse weren't sure what to make of them at first'. It's longer, but Hinata finds it to be more applicable.

It’s not like he can change the decision made by Future Foundation, as monumental a decision as it had made. They are now collectively known as the “Recovery Project.” Hinata also hates that they are labelled as a project. It makes him feel like a hamster on a wheel in a science fair. But then, the Future foundation has never been the best with names. Among its more noteworthy misnomers include having dubbed literal Armageddon "The Incident", as though it may have been a child learning an early life lesson, rather than the end of the world. The whole thing was so black and white, good and evil, hope and despair. Hinata might not have taken it seriously- and indeed, there had been a time when he hadn't. But that was before he'd learned of his involvement in it all. Before he'd recognized the sticky feeling between his fingers to be blood. 

Future Foundation tried its best, at least. But the world becomes large, complicated, when it concerns the apocalypse. Every system of government has collapsed, and every culture is in ruin. Any innocent civilians left are forever disturbed. Populations that had previously existed in the billions now dwindled. Even then, the survivors of the very first Killing Game came to visit when they could. Sparing even only a couple associates now and then to check up on the residents of the island was to be expected. Hinata welcomes the visitors religiously- immediately- upon their arrival. It is nice to see people outside of his classmates. But more than that, to receive news is more gratifying than Hinata ever would've thought. It's never good news- or it shouldn't be. But all they are ever told is about reconstruction here, or reclamation there. 

The opposition is never clear. 

Hinata knows it's a Tuesday as he strolls in the blaring heat to the restaurant. The months and seasons quickly become passable when your surroundings never change. But Hinata knows it's a Tuesday. And because it is a Tuesday, Future Foundation will have sent someone. As he skips up the steps he hopes it'll be Makoto. 

Hinata opens the door and is met with blissfully sweet, cool air. It's a product of the air conditioning machine that Souda had revived not yet a week earlier. The effect on the residents there was of such a magnitude that even days later, people went into a silent state of reverence as he passed by. Teruteru works away behind the counter on Hinata’s breakfast. The timing is perfect as usual.

Teruteru turned out to have a knack for predicting arrival times of his regulars. Gundam said it was magic, Teruteru called it his … Hinata doesn’t care to remind himself. Teruteru had never been the most wholesome of people. The bottom line was that Hinata had a steaming plate of apple pancakes handed to him moments after he set foot in the door.

“And there is Hinata!” Teruteru bounced. “Fashionably late as always- Don’t you worry, Sugar, happens all the time!” Chubby fingers place a croissant and small dish of clotted cream beside his perfect pancakes.

"Don't call me that," Hinata said tersely. Teruteru winked at him. Not sexually- he hoped- but he knew better. "But thanks, it looks delicious." Just like every other day, he didn't add. But he almost wished he had.

It’s not to say that Hinata was itching to go out into the black, foggy world of despair. It is- it always had been- that he'd just rather help out where he could, even if it mandated that he stay stuck here for years with people who he’d seen murder each other. Even if it meant waking up to those same faces every day.

“My pleasure, Hinata- just keep in in your pants for me, would ya?” He said casually.

Hinata rolled his eyes.

He moved to the back of the diner, where everybody else was assembled in a tight circle of tables, welcoming their daily guest with a friendly, yet not overbearing gap in the circle of tables. He maneuvered with his plate, carefully lifting it over heads to avoid it being spilled, all the while peering around the circle. 'Please be Makoto, please be Makoto, please be Makoto…"

… Aoi Asahina.

Asahina, the ultimate swimming pro was visiting today. She sat between Akane and Koizumi, chatting merrily away about one thing or the other. Mitori always got jumpy and scared around her, saying something about “bringing up bad memories” before running off. Saionji liked her well enough. Well enough, at least, to deem her “big sis” whenever she brought fresh donuts from the outside. The nickname might not have stood up as well had Saionji not been supplied with the sugary snacks. Akane, and, by her side, Nidai, butt in occasionally- something about training and collaboration, workouts, schedules, athletics, the like. 

Hinata freezes. It is as though Hinata's heart is pulled right into his throat by a single strand of golden hesitation. Nagito, hands folded over the tabletop, listens intently to what Asahina is saying, hair spilling out over his coat's hood, as he leans forward slightly, tired eyes and weary smile. It's that little whisper of a thought in Hinata's head. It's not exactly a real phrase, and if anything, it's more of a feeling that somewhat resembles embarrassment and a little bit of longing. It's alright though because it happens every morning. Get to the restaurant late, apple pancakes, make some excuse or find a reason to stare at his favorite eye candy, smile at him, maybe talk with him if he's feeling brave and spend the rest of the day doing nothing. Wash, rinse, repeat. Only it gets easier every day because he is slowly familiarizing himself with Nagito. Nagito is getting used to him, not unlike a skittish animal. The first days of Nagito being awake, he was locked away in his room, which made it hard for Hinata to stare at him. At least, until Nagito let him into his cottage, him and him alone. 

It had been the source of many a heated, fitful dream. Besides waking up feeling uncomfortably sticky down below... His train of thought escapes the rails in a brief collision with reality. What had he been doing? 

Asahina- right, Asahina instead of Makoto. 

Something like that.

Gundam and Souda had already left, which, again, was normal enough. However, Sonia is notably absent. Gundam, he knows, wouldn’t bother to stick around, not for anybody beyond Makoto, who entertains his outlandish stories, and Yasuhiro, who actively participates in them and who Gundam completely adores. Souda is about the same, having taken a strange liking to Byakuya, Makoto, and also Hina. But he’s been busy with projects lately- it makes sense. Sonia, though, is rarely ever missing from their meetings. She treats every visitor with grace and some regal air, as though she had never truly stepped off the throne. As though it were some ambassador duty, with warfare levels of importance. 

Hinata tries to shrug it off. He notes the empty chairs on either side of Nagito- two in both directions. People have still largely shut him out. He looks lonely, though, sitting by himself all the time, every morning, and that doesn’t sit well with Hinata, ever.

He pulls out the chair and sees Nagito's dark eyes whisk up to him, expectant, patient. They do this every day, but it's clear to Hinata that Nagito still doesn't deem himself worthy of Hinata's time. Rather, Izuru's time.

“Mornin’...” He huffed as he sat down, entirely composed. This entire a lie, however, and in reality, Hinata can say this of how he truly feels: Bedhead and bleary eyes make for a good look on Nagito. Though his regular hair isn't far off from bedhead. 

The moment he’s in place, he starts digging into his breakfast, because conversations starters are neither his, nor Nagito’s forte. It’s easy once the conversation is started, but sometimes it’s hard to concentrate on breaking the ice when all Hinata can really think about is how Nagito still puts up with that smothering coat in this boiling weather, it’s like he’s trying to cover up his sex appeal-

"Good morning to you, as well," Comes the light response, and Nagito twists around a bit in a way that tells Hinata that he's now the center of Nagito's attention. Nagito's eyelashes catch in the light and his smile is the only hint he'll allow that says, ‘Thanks for taking the time to speak to me again this morning, I’m honored.’

“I’m just saying that a monkey would probably be just as qualified, if not more qualified and capable to a worldwide race than a fish," Akane boisterously stated, her shirt trembling with the weight of her… endowments. Souda frequently elbowed him in the gut and leaned over to whisper about it, and Nagito had said as much aloud, but to Hinata, it had always been just another reminder that Akane will never wear a bra. “Slower on the straights, yeah, but they can go where they please. Fish are limited to water, and sometimes they even have to fight a current!”

“Well, that’s true…” Asahina sighed. “No, I totally see your point, good call.”

“Of course it’s a good call. I’m no dummy.”

"But what about a flying fish? If they jump, then rivers working backward wouldn't be an issue. And there is a way around the world only by water, I’m sure.”

Hinata started to feel his tie clamping around his neck and, as though seconding the motion, and indignant red heat wavered over his cheeks, He had nothing to say, and Nagito just was... staring at him. He knew had put on his tie too tight that morning, but- fiddling with it in front of Nagito? Very low on his list of things to do. Hinata just kept eating and felt his shirt began to swallow him whole as he shrunk back into it. Nagito was now glancing between him and the conversation he’d been participating in- and then back at Hinata, as though expecting him to say something. It’s a general rule of thumb that you don’t just say "Good Morning" to somebody only to promptly ignore them. It's just that Hinata can’t think of a single thing to say that he’d have the gall to carry through with. 

Murphy’s law, or anxiety.

It was getting uncomfortable really quickly, and Hinata's throat had gone from compressed, to a vice, to the vocal equivalent of a bear trap in a matter of seconds. It made it worse to know that Nagito was an early riser and had finished his breakfast probably ages ago. He was here only, as far as Hinata could tell, to lazily listen to Asahina, and to greet him in the morning as a friend. It puts pressure on him. He wishes silently to any passing spirit to grant him the strength enough to say something. Anything. 

He looked around at the friends within earshot, weighing the pros and cons for a moment, wondering how much respect he would lose from everybody if he were to say “lovely weather we’re having” to one of his closest friends, as a last resort. He wanted to bet a lot. Besides, Nagito would take it as some indication that he’s hard to talk to, which wasn't entirely incorrect, and then he'd probably proceed to degrade himself for the next couple hours.

“...Shit…”

Hinata muttered aloud, apparently loud enough to be audible. 

“Hinata, are you okay?” Already he saw guilt plastered on Nagito’s face. “Have I done something wrong?”

"No, you literally just sat there," He wants to comment, but now he needs an answer, something, anything, say anything-

“Hey- I’m not feeling well,” He blurts out suddenly, making Asahina stop mid-sentence to look over as she notices him for the first time all morning. Nagito almost flinches. Smooth, Hinata. About as smooth as crunchy peanut butter on a cactus.

“Oh,” Nagito says, blinking at him with the innocence of a kitten. Only the effect is missing because Hinata knows that Nagito is susceptible to sawing off vital limbs and stabbing himself repeatedly before he commits suicide by spear and poison. “That’s dreadful! Do you need me to walk you back to your room?”

"Yeah, that sucks! Feel better, Hajime!" Asahina smiles, one of Teruteru's freshly fried donuts in hand. She gives him a hearty wink, and he's not sure it means what he thinks it means.

More on Nagito’s question, though… should he risk it? It really is a game of chance with Nagito, but when has it ever not been? Risk the embarrassment of having nothing to say, or lose time with him? Hinata also wonders how he can practically swan-dive into this many mistakes just by going through a daily routine when nothing in the slightest had happened before. It's before noon, and he's already sure he's just about ruined his day.

"Sure, thanks," He says, nodding as a double reassurance because he can't find it in himself to turn down Nagito… not with that bedhead.

They stand together, and Hinata’s hands find the rim of his plate, only to see and feel Nagito’s hands over his, pushing them back down gently. Nagito’s hands, his steel one too, pushing down the plate for him. “Don’t worry about that- I’ll take care of it for you later.” 

“Oh, thanks,” He grapples for words, with little success, as he clumsily sets down the ceramic plate with a loud thunk.

He waves once at the others as he leaves, Nagito at his side, brushing open the restaurant door and helping him down the steps. Once they were outside, however, Hinata realized how foolish it was to take up Nagito on a trip back to his cottage, even if the walk was short.

“So, what’s wrong?” Nagito asks, again, in a surprisingly gentle manner. Surprisingly gentle is an accurate way to describe Nagito after the program. Though practically everything he does now could be considered totally docile by comparison.

It's only at this moment that Hinata realizes how shallow his forethought had been into this whole thing. He could've at least thought through the lie a little bit before committing to it. Had the program taught him anything at all?

He doesn’t answer Immediately, instead casually looking at Nagito as they walk, and takes a moment to remember that this boy drives him crazy. The way Nagito makes eye contact with him when they stand close, sometimes to an almost uncomfortable degree. Or the way he looks down when he’s standing alone, relaxed posture, hands in his pockets, making his elbows come out, and his hair spill out over his shoulders in tufts.His soft grip, even with a mechanic hand, or the way his speech only become, and has only ever become compromised when he’s embarrassed. The way Hinata starts thinking about his own hands around him, and how off-putting it could be.

Back in the program, he'd spent an hour trying to articulate it to Chiaki, a real human person who could relate to the matter, he had thought, and she'd told him that he was probably trying and failing to repress a crush. But it wasn't that- Hinata was absolutely positive. True, Chiaki would still know more about it than him, even as an AI, and she herself wasn’t dealing with the dilemma of possibly falling for a literal sociopath. She might’ve also been a little more welcome to the idea because of that- but surely Hinata was above that much. If the Nagito who had woken him up, and investigated with him, and was his friend at the start was the Nagito they knew, then yes, there was a possibility.

Well, either way, even. But that was who he'd originally loved- even if it had mutated, Nagito was still Nagito. 

“Hinata?”

“What?!”

“Oh- I’m sorry, I just asked you what was wrong.”

“Oh, right.” Hinata shrugged. He couldn't have denied being a little distracted. “Uh, my head hurts.”

It was true enough, really. He just didn't mind headaches all that much anymore. After all, he'd just recently undergone a minor brain surgery with Tsumiki and a few other medical personnel from Future Foundation to try and help minimize Kamakura's activity in his brain. Headaches for the following weeks was a pretty tame side effect in his book.

“I'm a little dizzy.” That was more of a lie, but only because he doesn’t think Nagito would buy the fact that he wants to go back to his room because of a headache alone.

“I’m sorry, Hinata, are you sure hanging around me isn’t doing you harm? It might be my fault.”

“Not everything that goes wrong is your fault. Probably just the surgery after-effects or something. Or, I don’t know, Izuru is angry... I don't know.”

“The surgery didn’t fix the problem entirely?”

“Not even close. He's- you know, he’s still rattling in there, talking to me… He's annoying.”

Nagito slowed his pace, seeing as they were a couple strides away from Hinata's cottage anyway. "Hinata, are you sure there's nothing I can do for you? Water, medicine, anything?"

"Oh! Hello, Nagito and Hinata! Another gorgeous day, today isn't it!" 

Hinata swiveled around, looking behind him to see Sonia calling out to them from in front of her cottage, waving happily. He sees Nagito raise his hand halfway, dropping it a little bit, before picking it back up and giving probably the timidest wave he's ever seen, while Hinata just nods to acknowledge her.

He probably wouldn’t have minded if she hadn’t skipped breakfast, but Hinata noticed a letter with a crisp envelope in her hand.

“Who’s that for?” He called out, and it was awkward to be yelling like this in front of Nagito, but once he’s curious there's nothing you can do to stop that urge. It appeared to be a good call, something he wanted to know more about by the way Sonia flusteredly played with the edge of her skirt with her free hand. A decent liar- even a passable liar- Sonia Nevermind was certainly not. “Oh- just, uh, just a letter to Touko! Who else do I write to? You asked, so I shall answer- it’s not important- good day to you both!” 

In a flurry of activity that seemed almost unreasonable given that she was only turning around and escaping into her cottage, she was gone. 

“While that seems… suspicious,” Nagito said.

“She can get pretty suspicious sometimes, but it's never anything sinister,” Hinata agreed, almost marveling at that skill. “I mean- don’t get me wrong, who doesn’t love Sonia? But still.”  
"No, no, of course, I get it," Nagito shrugged. "Still, she's dreadful at covering for herself. I suppose if she is as fair and as honest of a princess as they say she is… maybe she doesn't need to be."

Hinata could only have been curious about the letter, and he supposed that he could always snap a quick read of it later. He knew it was the wrong thing to do in a lot of regards, but it probably wouldn't be too personal. There’s a 95% chance that it was for Touko. The two had become pen pals and had bonded over a mutual dislike for real-time text messages, and a shared love for the written-by-hand word. As far as the letter- Hinata was never not in favor of something interesting. The alternative to some irregularity was just hanging out with the same people in the same weather, wondering if time was really passing in the outside world at all. Maybe Izuru really wanted something new, or maybe it was Hinata craving the change this time. Maybe a rare communal thought.

“Let’s just leave her be,” He suggested. “I need a serious power nap.”

Nagito nodded, guiding Hinata the last couple feet to his door, watching as Hinata pretended to fiddle with his key. At least Ibuki hadn’t broken this one- the door, not the key. 

“Seriously Hinata, is there anything I can do for you at all? Like- anything?” 

Hinata opens his door finally, and looks back at Nagito, studying his face. He really is concerned. A genuine, domestic concern over a friend with a headache. Cute, but he would never tell.

“I’m okay. But thanks.”

“Offering was the least I could do," Nagito mumbled back. “I mean- I guess I’ll see you later. Feel better.”

Hinata choked out, as Nagito turned and started to walk- “Um, yeah you too!”

Hinata slunk behind his door and closed it, and the silence embraced him. He took a moment to breathe, backing up to lean against the wall in peace for a moment.

Hinata felt his cheeks start to burn as his own stupidity washes over him. He just hoped Nagito wouldn't bring it up. He probably wouldn't, it was a stupid little mistake, but god, embarrassment wasn't relenting when it came to Hinata with Nagito. And had he really just said, "You too" back to him? The phrase echoed in his head. Embarrassingly horrible timing and rusty conversational skills pervaded in his thoughts, and they would for a long time afterward- he was sure.

Goddamnit.

On another note, his head did suddenly lurch in pain, which only ever meant one thing.  
“What do you want?” He asked, already aware that Izuru never came without reason.   
“I would like to go inspect the letter the boring blonde left behind.”

“Her name is Sonia, she isn’t boring, and it’s totally an infringement of privacy,” Hinata countered dully, frowning somewhat as he felt a growing pain in his temples.

“Does privacy really exist anymore?” Izuru asked. 

“... Fine, but I'm telling you right now that if we get in trouble-" Pausing after realizing there wasn't much of a consequence he could mete out to someone who primarily existed in his own headspace. "But we're waiting 20 minutes before we go. I want the breakfast crew to be out first. Less chance of being seen."

“A wise course of attack.”

He'd wait, swipe it, read it, then put it back. No harm done. It was probably something useless anyway. It had no impact on him at all.

Probably.

_ [_*_] _ [_*_] _ [_*_] _

In his defense, Makoto certainly looked guilty. The unrest was plain to see on his face, and, less obviously so, in his shoulder, in his posture, his mannerisms. Not that Hinata would let that stop him. 

“I can’t believe you told everybody!” He cried at the monitor. Waving Sonia’s letter at the pixelated face. “How could you?! That was like my biggest secret, you jackass!”

Makoto looked honestly slightly scared, which was enough to make Hinata take a double take. Makoto wasn’t somebody who deserved to be yelled at under any circumstance. Any circumstance but this, that is.

‘I thought you said you didn’t," Makoto mumbled.

“I don’t!” He snapped, but it was probably too late. Like Makoto hadn’t known from the very start. “How did Fukawa and Sonia hear about this?!”

"I'm sorry!" He pleaded desperately. "I really am!" 

Hinata just glowered at him from his end. For Makoto to be borderline cowering behind his hands over his cell phone, and Hinata's laptop made Hinata feel almost a little guilty, but certainly not enough that he'd relent just yet.

The letter in question had been as follows: 

Dear Touko,  
I am surprised but not in the least doubtful that you found out about Naegi and Hajime saying such things. I, personally, have already noticed Nagito and Hinata courting each other timidly, and I am so excited to know that my very best pen pal thinks the same of it. Nagito could really use somebody to trust and rely on, and who suits such a role better than the man who gave him such a vital second chance and his hope? More outside the program than inside of it, I see this gratitude in Nagito. He has clearly had eyes for Hinata since the very beginning. They would be so very cute together… though I am not sure what this 'BL' term you mention means… I cannot find it in any dictionaries here, and I do not want to ask anybody about what we write, so I shall request this of you instead- Please explain the phrase so that I may better understand your culture and vernacular!. Also, please be safe. I hear that progress in Towa city has been slowed again. Please be wary! I could not stand losing my best friend! Say a very gracious hello to Byakuya and Syo for me. I shall start editing the chapters you sent to me immediately. I shall also be sure to give you a full report about the books you sent. Do not worry! Stay out of trouble. Do not sneeze!

Yours,   
Sonia Nevermind

“So how’d she find out about it?!” Hinata demanded. The interaction that morning- the activity, the- the damn letter. She knew.

“Komaru might’ve blabbed- I swear, I don’t know-”

Hinata flinched. “You told your sister that I have a crush on Nagito?! You know I don't in the first place, but you told your sister?!"

“You say that now, but after Tuesday,” Makoto paused, swallowing with obvious discomfort.  
"That was two days ago! How'd they find out so fast?" He asked, less out of anger now. It seemed like such a short time span. For news to circulate so fast when it's the only mode of travel and delivery was the inhabitants of the island by mouth or letter- it was frustrating.  
“I mean… Have you ever talked to either of them about it? You really, you know. Seem to care a lot about the issue."

"He's my friend. Of course, I care about him. And no one else is gonna give him a chance after everything. And seriously, Tuesday wasn't... It wasn't like-"

The look on Makoto's face was telling, in short.

_ [_*_] _ [_*_] _ [_*_] _

Makoto had come to spend the night with Hinata on Tuesday. It was a rare occasion, not because they wouldn't want to, but because future foundation staff so rarely got that much time off. Makoto tried to make it once a month, but even that became ambitious at times. Makoto saved the extra hours for when he really needed it- like that Tuesday. A day where Kirigiri had been out on an overnight mission and he was afraid of being home alone after his time at Hope's Peak Academy. He couldn't have just gone to Togami. His next best solution had been to utilize his minuscule time slot for leisure and to seek counsel from Hinata.

Makoto, as a social person, and Hinata, as a guy who couldn’t start a conversation to save his life, resorted to playing stupid party games all night- and then some into the early morning. Sleep was rare everywhere. They were too tired to think properly anymore, and their words were more loaded than normal because they couldn’t afford to find the effort it took to lighten them. Buzzed without alcohol on pure exhaustion, both were only brutally honest. A bonding activity in a trivial and slightly demented way.

That night’s game of choice had been "Hotseat". Because Hinata was too lazy to think of anything else, and it was as close to a proper conversation as he could manage to hold nowadays. Maybe with a side of 'I hate myself' from Hinata’s end because he didn’t need Izuru to tell him that there were very few ways this would go in his favor.

Hotseat- essentially truth or dare without the pass option, the daring, or the publicity. After having first played it, Hinata might say that it was like 20 questions only a lot more hardcore and full of regret, rather than the knowledge of somebody's favorite color. 

Hinata remembered feeling at a complete loss as Makoto asked the most loaded question of the night- one he never thought he would ever try to verbalize an answer for.

"Why are you always so hot-and-cold with Nagito?"

And it made Hinata stop in his very tired, used-to-be-happy tracks. It was something he couldn’t really work though internally, forget externally. It just wasn’t happening. 

Why did he act the way he did around Nagito? It was hard to pin down. Nothing was really set in stone when it came to Nagito because Nagito never stopped changing. He was, in a word, sporadic. While that was fine for Izuru, and even though it had calmed after the new-world program… it really made it hard to have a solid opinion about him. Especially when the changes were so quick. 

There was no telling what he’d do, no telling what could or would happen, no telling how’d you react until it was already over, except-

"I don't know," Hinata admitted. "I think- jeez, uh... I'm just really stumped by him. I'm stuck in this middle ground of being his best friend and his worst enemy. And I can't work at being one or the other, that's the other thing. He just turns on a dime and then I'm back to square zero with him."

“You?” Makoto asked. “Indifferent about Nagito?"

“I know, I know, it sounds weird, and it’s really hard to be indifferent to him, but I don't blindly decide to hate him like the others. He's the kind of guy that you have to decide whether you love or hate- I just haven't made that decision yet… I'm not saying I don't feel strongly about the guy because I do- it's just weird. I feel like something's missing about him, you know I need to find like- a Rosetta stone or some shit."

“Are you sure? You don’t sound indifferent to me.” Makoto shrugged, eyes cast downwards as he took another drink from his bottle of water. Like many other members of Future Foundation, Makoto brought his own water, having found that the natural springs on the island provided water so far from his own refined tastes that he almost couldn't drink it at all. Life with bottled water was, apparently, a strict one. 

“Look- I hated his hand, I hated seeing it. I hate how much he hates himself, I hate how the others treat him, and I hate how he can be so indecisive, but then everything is really important to him, and I really hate that all his beliefs have such a heavy impact on us...”

Makoto bit his lip. “You bring up a good point. But, I don’t think the others hate him. I think they hate the power he has over them, knowing how unstable he is as a person.”

Hinata sat with that for a minute. "I mean- it's totally possible. I just don't think we can really verbalize why some of us feel the way we do. It's like a family problem. Like how you make one argument into so many things in your head, but really it's none of those, and you're not sure how to verbalize what it actually is. It's in part because you don't know, but mostly because you don't know why it works in the first place?" Hinata's words are tired, and he isn't making much sense to himself anymore. "Like, we all get this feeling in your chest about him, but we don't verbalize it well enough to solve our problems with it."

"That… makes sense," Makoto nodes. "But I think that you'll be able to figure it out eventually. I mean, you, especially, because from the way you look at him, you want to jump his bones, and you should at least know how you feel about a guy before you jump into bed with him."

Hinata flinched and felt a heat wave slam the front of his face. “Who- me?!”

“Yes you,” Says Makoto wearily. He looks at him blankly.

“Oh, shut up," Hinata says, one hand swiping uselessly at the air. “I just miss the old him, you know? It was the, you know... like, what could’ve been- if you accused me of loving the really cute guy who woke me up when we first entered the program? Sure- if you accused me of loving Nagito, it's a different thing."

“But he’s treating you differently now. He’s way more like the old Nagito than the one you found after the first trial. Or, I mean," Makoto trails off after this point, and Hinata has interrupted him anyways- "Not that I'd really know, I'm just goin' off what you told me."

“No, he's treating me way different now,” Hinata says bitterly.

"I think I understand," Makoto says. "You're talking about his... You know, him being so compliant?"

Hinata scowled suddenly. "Of course I am! He licks the very ground we walk upon. He's a total suck-up- like he's more determined to be a slave than a friend- all because of hope or something. My old friend, I mean, like, the self-loathing, charming, cute, kind of funny friend I used to have- totally replaced by whatever the hell is happening now!"

A pause. "Shit," Said Hinata.

"You just unironically called him cute and charming, and funny," Makoto said, in a sing-songy, lazy voice. "Turns out we didn't need Kiri to break you after all. Good, good. I'll let her know."  
“No! Not what I mean- What did you say about Kirigiri?!”

“Kiri... Hi... nata... is in... the... closet," Makoto sounded out as tapped at the surface of his phone. 

“Are you- Are you texting her that? I'm not! Nagito is just a friend, we're friends- don’t you dare send that text to her!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't let the start of this chapter scare you off!!!!! PLEASE ;''( 
> 
> Starting feedback of this story is so humbling- it's amazing that so many people like it, and it's only chapter one. Not only that, but I was planning on never posting it- because after five months I lost interest. NEVER FEAR!!!
> 
> If you want my prediction for how many chapters- I'd guess It'll be about 14 or 15? MAYBE 16? I have up to chapter 12 written on paper, and up to chapter 10 typed up. THank again so much for your support!

It’s damp. It’s the first thing Hinata can really say for sure though heavy, lidded eyes. He can’t see, but he can feel it. He can’t see anything but blurred shapes really, but he’s sweating, dripping, his fingers clenching into soft, bleached hair.

 

There are fingers prying open his tanned thighs. Bony, slender fingers, spread and clawing at Hinata’s skin like an animal. He’s dizzy and hot. When did he get hotter than the air around him? He was burning. “Mm…” He could hear himself breathing, his hips snapping off of whatever he was laying on. 

 

Where was he?

 

Hot- Almost unbearably hot breath ghosts over his crotch. “Hinata… please- may I? You’re so hard… let me?” Husky, warm, spoken into his thighs. Hinata groans. His erection is dry and sensitive, begging for more heat, friction, slick, anything. 

 

Hinata doubt he’s ever felt like this. With somebody else, it just... it made all the difference in the world. Even with Nagito. The thought crossed his mind- that it was Nagito. 

 

Hinata gasped as soft, thin lips found his erection, and then, without much warning, without much more teasing, it was there. Warmth, heat, tight, squeezing, sucking, coaxing some throaty grumble from the top of Hinata’s mouth. It was- 

 

“Nagito… ugh…” Hinata let another moan slip out as Nagito searched slowly, gently, for a better grip, his metal hand grabbing too hard to properly mimic his other hand and fuck, that made it even better. Everything was so hot. So hot.

 

Hinata opened his eyes.

 

Hinata raises his head off his pillow with great effort and confirms what he was hoping to deny. He lets his head fall back onto the pillow in hopelessness and resignation. He takes a moment to contemplate his life before any genuine reaction can find him. 

 

"Shit."

 

The breathy swear is the only instinct that graces him, as a mix of disappointment and defeats swell through him, “Goddammit.”

 

Hinata only now starts to think about what this means for him. Eyes closed, but- the brief glimpse he catches of himself is pressed behind his eyelids. It’s disgusting, but Hinata reminds himself that self-hate has no place in a biological phenomena.

 

“Why him?” Is one of the questions that bubbles to the surface amidst at least twenty others. He makes sure to include in his self-inventory that this is wrong. Entirely- Nagito is insane beyond comprehension and dishonest all the time. He hates everybody and himself, he’s obsessed with hope and God, who is Hinata kidding?

 

Nagito isn’t as bad as the others made him out to be. He’s bad at explaining his reasoning, and he can’t explain where the reality stops and the screwed up mental perception with the dementia filter begins. He’s Hinata’s friend, he’s rather attractive, funny, smart, but not in the textbook manner, and at any given point in the day, Hinata would be able to list about 100 other wonderful qualities about him. But he finds it wouldn't be the best method of dispelling wet dreams to recount the best features of Nagito Komaeda. For the time being, he counts on the fact that lying is complicated, even to himself. Complicating things is the last thing he needs when it comes to Nagito.

 

Hinata rolls over, sick to his stomach, at himself mostly- and sees the alarm clock. 

 

10:34 am.

 

Only then does it really occur to Hinata that Naegi was probably waiting for him at the restaurant and had been for three hours.

 

He leaped out of bed, swearing, and hoping that nobody barged into his cottage between now and when he got home later to see to his stained sheets. The most he'd have to worry about was, maybe, a wandering Mikan. Assuring himself of this, he jump-started himself into action.

 

_ [_*_] _ [_*_] _ [_*_] _

 

After spending 15 minutes panicking alone in the thick tropical heat that had leaked in through open windows overnight, trying to get himself ready and out of the door without looking like a sixteen car pileup, Hinata had already recounted the saying that the real trip is the journey and not the destination- absolute bullshit. Right now, all he could think of was the restaurant, the sun sparkling on the water be damned.

 

He wonders why they all still feel obligated to meet at the restaurant every morning, but when he thinks about it there are really only two possible answers. The first is that old habits die hard, and two, maybe some people are lying about how much they really trust the others, and waking up and seeing everybody else alive every morning is something they sometimes doubt the reliability of. 

 

Hinata didn’t want to be depressed alongside late, and, pushing the thought out of his head, he made room for calculating how many steps he could skip per bound without tripping over loose shoelaces.

 

He busts through the door with all the fervent energy of a man on his way to the emergency room to be beside a loved one. Makoto was waiting, by the window, gazing out at the sparkling shoreline of Jabberwock island chatting quietly with-

 

Well, who else?

 

Hinata attempts to stifle the desperation in his very breaths, but it's hard to even his breath when his body screams for the rapid expansion, quick compression, inhale, exhale, and it's the only thing he can think about. He tries for all of five seconds, and he feels his vision blackening- indulgence. Makoto and Komeada both glance over as he approaches. Hinata doesn’t really think he’s in the headspace to see Nagito right about now. Komeada cheeks are red, sun-kissed probably (he burns easily), and his coat is tucked under him as he sits in his chair. Hinata can’t help but wonder how he looks so different wearing the same clothes all the time, Also, he had no idea how long Komaeda and Makoto have been talking about who-knows-what. The possibility for conspiracy rises in protest. He tries to ignore it.

 

With minimal success, of course. When you fantasize about being sucked off the night before, and you wake up to find that same guy talking to your best friend calmly and rationally as though it didn't affect him in the slightest (even though it didn't), it doesn’t sit well in your stomach. Besides the sensation of cold discomfort, Hinata feels something else drape a heavy coat over his shoulders. Jealousy? Possessiveness? It was a sour ball knowing that Nagito admired Makoto just as he did Hinata, and Makoto had been there, anyway. It was fair, at least. But Hinata couldn't entirely label the feeling. Not yet.

 

“Hey!” Makoto smiled, sitting up little straighter at his appearance. “I thought you weren’t going to come!” His warm expression almost seemed condescending in this light, but maybe Hinata was still just… whatever it was. Grumpy, at least.

 

“Good morning Hinata,” Komaeda adds. It's so casual that Hinata wonders if he were still in bed, oversleeping. But Nagito excelled at casual. Everything he did was casual and hopeful. He could casually cause a plane crash and look forward to hope. He could casually be kidnapped by a murderer, and still be looking forward to hope. He could casually saw off his arm, and still, still look forward to hope.He could set up murders, rig bombs, kill himself, and then try to drag people he claimed to be idols to the grave with him. All the while, those sickly eyes would be pointed towards a brighter idea than just love, or passion. 

 

Hinata swallowed, felt some sticky sludge in his mouth. He smiled and nodded, pulling out a chair for himself, and sitting between the both of them. The chair screeched. Loud. Extra. Unnecessary. 

 

“I was worried something happened to you,” Makoto said through a genuine smile. Hinata received the point of a friendly elbow in his gut. “Komaeda and I just… talked for a while. We were waiting for you.”

 

Hinata tried to push down the grin Makoto was shooting at him, as mischievous and all-knowing as it was. “I’m still trying to get a definitive date as to when Future Foundation will let you out of here… You know, and when you can enroll, and help us. But I don't think it'll happen soon."

 

“Still, huh?” It’s not the first time Makoto’s mentioned the idea of them become Future Foundation members. Hinata shrugs. “We haven't done all that much to prove ourselves yet, though…”

 

“I call saving the entire world from a brainwashing for blind hope pretty spectacular, but I dunno, that might just be me," Makoto says sarcastically.

 

“Says the man who’s all about blind hope,” Hinata points out obstinately.

 

“”I mean…” Nagito finally speaks, about cut off at the moment Hinata and Makoto’s eyes fell on him, suddenly shrinking back behind his teacup a little bit. “I don’t suppose everybody will join future foundation? I can’t see them accepting Mitori, and Imposter is kind of risky.” His husky voice trails off at the end as if he felt more unsure of his words in the process of saying them. ”Of course, they wouldn’t want me either.” He adds this on for good measure.

 

Makoto points at him, almost accusingly. “Not so fast, there...Future Foundation actually wants you specifically on their side. Whether or not you wanna acknowledge it, you do have ultimate luck, and you were clearly a foundation of hope for all of the others in the…” The words nearly died on his tongue. "You know. The simulation."

 

Nagito disregards it with his closed shoulders. “I should be the last person they want.”

 

“Nonsense, they’d love to have you!” Makoto said. “Especially because we’re working on your dementia already.”

 

“That’s something I don’t quite understand,” Hinata admits, quietly. “How is Nagito’s supposedly ‘terminal and untreatable’ cancer getting fixed all of the sudden?"

 

Makoto spares him a cursory shrug. “When you have literally all the money in the world, and every person in the world relying on you to keep them all alive, finding the funding and manpower to create a cure for a single disease, even something as severe as dementia… Anything's within reach. We have ultimates- graduates who work in the medical field, who are proficient with neurology, neuroscience… We need Nagito to be safe. 

 

“I still don’t understand why you’re troubling hundreds of people, and wasting hours of their time for me," Nagito said. “You should just let me die." 

 

"I'm getting sick of you saying shit like that," Hinata said. 

 

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing he had done all day. He hadn't even known that so many people were working to help Nagito survive that cancer. That Future Foundation must’ve really taken an interest in him. To be fair, his intentions are pure, and while he is undoubtedly extreme in his actions, their goals are exactly the same. Hinata can’t see a reason why Future Foundation wouldn’t want Nagito, beyond him being a little or a lot psychotic. If they were going to fix that along the way, he would be the perfect recruit. He'd do just about anything he was asked to do. 

 

“You deserve every single one of those people working to help you,” Hinata says roughly. He hopes it is enough to smooth his previous exclamation over.

 

“I mean,” Makoto cuts in. “It does seem a tad heavy-handed. I think we could figure out a cure in time easily, even with only half the people… But I get it. They need to guarantee that we find a solution.”

 

Nagito looked ashamed, slacking in his chair. Like he’d rather kill himself then let people stop him from dying at the hands of himself.

 

A pause- Whirring.

 

“You knew about this?” Hinata asked Nagito, dumbfounded. “You knew there were so many people helping you, and you didn’t tell me?"

 

“I didn’t want anybody knowing,” Nagito confessed. “I’m ashamed enough…. I suppose the shame is what I deserve.”

 

Hinata let his mouth fall open, not in surprise, but in heavy retort without words. And then, the follow-up, weak, deflated. “That’s not the point.”

 

“They want you to be safe, there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of," Makoto says insistently.

 

“I’m troubling dozens of ultimates just because of my own bad luck. It’s my fault that any of this is happening," Nagito says tiredly.

 

“No, it’s not!” Makoto insisted, more forceful than Hinata had seen in a long time. He looked angry. “If you say that again- I swear I’ll!”

 

To be afraid of Makoto, a boy many times shorter than him, known to be the most passive person around- pitted against him in a sudden turn of events, the tall, lanky boy who brought the very world to its knees with nothing but his fortune and luck.

 

“Naegi-”

 

Hinata almost jumped at the sound of his own voice. He knew he was going to say it, but It came out more from his lungs than his voice box. Gruff and dangerous. 

 

Makoto glanced over at him, both of them on their feet, towering above a shrinking Nagito who'd had the sense to remain seated, though it looked for all the world as though he were about to bolt anyway. Makoto’s shoulders relaxed, and, with a baited sigh, he let himself sink into his seat again.

 

“I’m sorry, Nagito, Hinata. I just… It’s been a long week at HQ. I’m pretty wired up about it. It’s okay… We’re all friends here," He said softly. "It was immature of me to start pulling threats."

 

“Yeah,” Hinata agreed, praying to every god in existence that Nagito just lets it drop there, and that everything would be okay. 

 

“...Friends?”

 

Nagito shifted a bit. “Makoto, I feel you should be obliged to rephrase that. Lumping yourself together with the likes of me… for you to ever think it is a disgrace. It's... certain by now. It should be, anyway.”

 

Hinata shot a fast glare at Makoto that simply screamed: “I told you so." He isn't really sure where he went wrong today. Makoto seemed puzzled. 

 

“Of course we're all friends. Who do you take me for?” Makoto blinked “Hinata and I both really like having you around!”

 

Sometimes Makoto's optimism made him speak too kindly for the majority, something Hinata made a mental note to accuse him of later. He tried not to look too relieved that it hadn't been too telling of his conflicted personal feelings.

 

“Really?” Nagito asked, wide-eyed. He looked as if he were about to cry, and Hinata had to punch down the part of himself that kind of wanted to see it. “Oh god- of course not- what was I thinking?” He picked at his sleeves, sharp, white teeth cutting into his bottom lip.

 

What?

 

Even, or maybe especially, Makoto was beginning to look defeated as Nagito suddenly changed his entire air within seconds, his previous manner vaporizing under the building pressure. Confusion- that, or Makoto was just woefully unprepared for the person that Nagito really was.

 

"The ultimate hopes shouldn't have to lie to me. I know I'm useless. To think I wasted so much of your time, for the both of you... How selfish of me," Nagito crowed sadly.

 

Hinata looked on, almost aggravated as Makoto apologized, reconciled, attempted to make it up in some manner. He had what Hinata liked to call "nervous hands". when something went wrong or when he was at a loss for what to say his hands started doing half the talking. Among a small number of other people that Hinata knew of, Nagito seemed to be able to trigger this mannerism in him the most. 

 

Hinata's mind jumped from one thing to the next in an attempt to keep off of Nagito's face. Impossible. Stupid. And now, the only thing he wanted was a bagel. Toasted, maybe. Butter, or cream cheese- anything. 

 

"Look, that's great and all, but I'm gonna get something to eat,” Hinata grumbled aloud. “If you want to keep going back and forth, you two can go ahead. I'm out.”

 

“Oh, Hinata- Don't be like that! Nagito's- Um, can you...?” 

 

"Why am I friends with you?"

 

Hinata has to bite down the words because he doesn't want to hurt Makoto, and a joking tone of voice isn't coming easily in that moment. He doesn't feel it coming anytime soon, either.

 

Makoto, instead, rises and smiles at them both. “Actually, I wanna grab something to eat, too,” He admitted. “I got here early so I could snag some of Teruteru’s cooking. But I'll probably get some coffee or something now.”

 

"Was it good?” Hinata asked loosely.

 

“Best I ever had.” Makoto smiled.

 

"Good to hear.” But Hinata's back is already turned as he sets off in search of the section in the pantry where they store bagels. Not that there's a designated section for only bagels. But he's looking anyway.

 

Nagito remained where he was at the table, sipping his tea and staring out the window peaceably. 

 

It felt wrong, too, Hinata realized as he found the bagels in a plastic bag. He pulled them out from behind a couple crates of- fresh produce, it looked like. Somewhere behind him, Nagito was watching. He could feel it. With love and adoration, he was sure, but at the same time... He could never really be at that level of implicit trust. The stability just wasn't there. 

 

When Hinata returns to the counter, Nagito is staring out the window, cheek resting on his hand. From over his head, Hinata can smell the sea foam, can feel the soft, wispy breeze push past palm tree branches, shifting them all out of its way with more force than could be felt on Hinata's skin. Nagito looks up at him, and their eyes meet for a thick, awkward silence. Hinata glances away as fast as possible as if trying to convince himself that he had imagined it. Not because it would work in the first place, but because it was a reflex of his.

 

Refute indulgence.

 

Nagito paid no mind, or at least he didn't say anything to indicate otherwise. Makoto, sitting down after Hinata had with a cup of coffee, was oblivious. 

 

Makoto handed him a container of cream cheese he'd plucked off the counter, seemingly already waiting for them. Hinata never believed anything was “just luck” anymore.

 

Nagito reverted back into his stance of staring out the window after peering between the two who had returned to the table, idly whisking a spoon around in his teacup. Steam curled up from both his own teacup and the mug that Makoto had produced. The pot had, perhaps, been on throughout the morning. Teruteru, compassionate in that regard, staked his presence in the conversation.

 

Hinata felt it in the back of his mind, and- without warning, without any warning whatsoever, the image pressed itself onto the inside of his eyelids. He couldn't rid himself of the image of the warehouse, now. Black-out blinds, straight into another nightmare. Back to the strategically-placed ropes, hastily fashioned cuts, Nagito's skin butchered and messy, tape smothering any cry for help, a knife jammed into his hand- a spear impaling him through the stomach- Wide-eyed, poisoned, tears still wet on his face. Completely and utterly abolished, left by himself to burn. 

 

What's more-

 

“Hinata?” Nagito asked softly. “Not that it's my place to ask in the slightest, but are you feeling alright? You don't look well. Again."

 

Hinata blinked, breaking his distant stare and feeling a cold wind over his neck and spine, down the backs of his arms. He wasn't well- and it was nice of Nagito to care in the first place, but it wasn’t-

 

“Nagito’s right… You don’t look good,” Makoto added.

 

“Hinata?”

 

“What?” Hinata says when he comes up out of his stupor. It's unnecessarily terse. “Sorry, sorry-”  he splutters in a weak attempt to cover for himself, even though he knows it is beyond repair and he has well blown his cover by now.

 

“Are you still not feeling well after yesterday?” Nagito asked quietly.

 

Hinata loves it when Nagito hands him a great excuse on a silver platter. It happened more often than it should- but either way, it was good for him at the moment. It was a balancing force for all the times Nagito asked him those hard questions that had put him on the spot.

 

“Yeah, that's it, I just feel a little…. I don't know, fatigue, I guess.”

 

Nagito looked guilty. “I knew I should’ve gotten Mikan yesterday… I’m so sorry, Hinata, it’s my fault.”

 

“I'm fine now- you know, just a little drained, is all. I promise," Hinata says.

 

Turned on him in an instant. "Oh, no, of course, Hinata, you can take care of yourself. I'm so sorry if I came off as arrogant- I promise I know my place. Please don't be upset," He said in a pleading voice that sounded so genuine, so sweet. It was almost like mockery. Maybe it was. Makoto peers at both of them concernedly. There's not much he can do- barely anything, at all. He waits anxiously for the first suggestion so he can dogpile his agreement or offer his disagreement- anything.

 

“Nagito,” Hinata sighed. Futile, but, if only to soothe his own conscience with an attempt, necessary. “I forgive you. You were just trying to help.”

 

Hinata, with this, has instituted a new game. Nagito, at this point, can't refute. The upper hand goes to Hinata. Nagito- well, so far he is losing, but he's trying and he's not anywhere near bankrupt yet.

 

"Of course, as expected of the ultimate hope- you are so forgiving and kind to a wretch like me,” Nagito said ruefully.

 

The game is hard. But Hinata doesn't quit preemptively. It's his game, to begin with. 

 

“I'm forgiving and being kind because I want to be, not because I feel obliged. I'm doing these things for you, Nagito, because it's worth it to me.”

 

If Nagito hadn't looked to be on the brink of a meltdown before, he certainly was now. “Hinata and Makoto are so kind to me. I can't believe I'm this fortunate.”

 

Makoto finally appeared to realize that the opportunity wouldn't simply present itself. Belatedly, he smiled and visibly glanced at the both of them with relief evident in his eyes. "I don't know about Hinata, but I'm certainly lucky to have met you as well.” His smiley radiance has increased by at least three thousand percent, attaining levels of "Thank God that's over" never before achieved by humanity. “ I really adore both of you.” 

 

Finishing strong.

 

“Not as much as you adore Kirigiri,” Renata mumbled into his glass of water, only to receive a sharp kick under the table. He yelped out in surprise.

 

Nagito paid no mind to their childish antics.

 

After a moment of staring at a Makoto appearing to be innocent with some amount of gruff respect, Hinata turns his attention back to his bagel, sparing a look at Nagito after taking a bite. “Enough about me. Are you sure you're okay?”

Nagito looked away shyly. He spoke, then, on edge.

 

“Hinata… Makoto… I just, there's... some request that I would… maybe like you to hear out from me?" 

 

Hinata paused briefly as he chewed his bagel, nodding at Makoto who lifted his mug to his mouth and took a small sip of the brewed beverage before placing it back down on the table. He laced his fingers together and leaned forward interestedly.

 

"Of course, Nagito- you don't need permission to ask a question.”

 

"I don't know…,” Nagito said plainly. “Well, fine, here- may I possibly ask for you to maybe consider…”

 

It was as if something had fallen dead out of the sky and clubbed him over the head, the thought dying on his tongue. He shrugged and peered at the corner of the table as though he were too deep in thought to finish his sentence.

 

“No, hold up- what did you want to say?” He'd hyped this up, and Hinata wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily.

 

“It's stupid, forget I said anything.”

 

“No, please." Nagito's face flushed suddenly- and Hinata saw something he had never seen on Nagito before. 

 

Panic.

 

“You- I want-” The words were catching. “I just can’t dare-”

 

Makoto raised his hands as though to support Nagito, his mouth opening to tell Nagito to calm down and think carefully when Nagito gasped out his answer.

 

“May I please be so insolent as to ask you to stay with me a little longer?” 

 

No sooner had he said the unsightly, unpredicted request did he start covering for himself.

 

“I mean! Well, that's what I was going to ask- but, well, uh, I know I don't deserve it- I'd be nothing but a bother, and what was I thinking? You know what? I'm just going to go-”

 

Nagito suddenly found the ground below his feet, tripping and standing on his own foot as he tried to get up.

 

Suddenly, Makoto's hand was fastened round Nagito's wrist like a handcuff, jerking him back after he'd stood from his seat.

 

“You aren't going anywhere," Makoto insisted. “You asking to hang out isn't a high demand at all- we aren't upset. What we get upset about is the fact that you think you're so many levels below us for no reason!”

 

Only it's no use. Hinata's thinking of a smiling face framed in strawberry blonde bangs- saying the very thing and then, it had been so different, so strained. Instantaneous, the reaction. Not those words- The wrong way. Twisted. Bent, selfishly, for another purpose. Refurbished from the mouth of- maybe, the death of Nagito Komaeda.

 

“Talent isn't everything," Hinata finally manages. “Talent isn't everything, Nagito, you have to let it go. I learned that the hard way a very long time ago from a friend of mine.”

 

In a park, on a bench, in two very different uniforms.

 

Nagito slowly looks at him, and everything about his expression is hollow. Like somebody pulled his wire out of a power outlet. Dejection- But maybe, a glint.

 

But really, Nagito looks like somebody is delicately reprogramming his Mainframe where he sits. And suddenly the mechanics don't seem to stop at his arm as he looks up at Hinata stiffly.

 

“...It was Nanami.”

 

Hinata freezes like he's been slapped.

 

“What?"

 

“Of course it was Nanami…  I should have guessed," Nagito whispered in some vaguely lost, sad tone.

 

Hinata flinches just hearing her name again.

 

“How do you know?” There's a certain waiver in his own voice, something that trembles and buzzes, reverberating like loose pieces of metal being shaken around in an empty plastic cup. 

 

“She told me the same thing quite a bit. She liked to humor me, and I'm glad I could at least be a charity project for her. It's more than I could ever ask for.”

 

Something in Hinata breaks.

 

He can't help it. There's just something- something about imagining Chiaki telling Nagito the same thing, except Nagito doesn't care. Chiaki was the only one who had ever made him realize that talent wasn't the only determining factor in your life. That there was more to life than expertise. But she got there too late to get to him. There's something so wrong to Hinata about Chiaki telling Nagito with the same fiery passion she always did in the rough spots, him, with all his time left, with his whole life ahead of him, only for him to disregard completely what might've been her last words in two lifetimes. To, instead, use it as fuel for his already crackling bonfire of self-destruction. It makes Hinata warm- hot. His blood simmers and then breaks out quickly into explosive kinetic motion. That Nagito had been told the same thing stung- she hadn't even told him anything unique. The purpose they'd been used for- she had probably known all along that she wouldn't be able to get through to him, either. She had probably known what purpose her words would carry.

 

Disgusting. Appalling. Unacceptable.

 

Hinata isn't even sure what he's doing or saying- he isn't sure why he should have to endure Nagito’s cat-and-mouse games every goddamn day. He isn't sure why he put up with it for so long, anyway. 

 

“Get out.”

 

Hinata closes his eyes, the table set for three in front of him, midday breakfast in the filtered sun. It's unbearable and suddenly everything has tripled in intensity, in focus. Hinata doesn't look.

 

“Hinata?”

 

"Get out right now," Hinata says. It's wobbly. Powerful. On the verge of screaming unintelligible syllables.

 

He can't bear to look at Nagito any longer. His tangled hair, his pretty face. He can picture Nagito's eyes widen with a hopeful pause in his mind without looking. He hears the chair scream as it moves across the floor, and then quick, scuffled footsteps exiting the restaurant.

 

"Nagito! No- wait!” Makoto calls out after him, but no response comes before the door shuts, quietly, humbly. Hinata opens his eyes, now face-to-face with one of the most intimidating sites he's ever seen. 

 

Makoto billows with outrage, lacking entirely the dampening layer of sugar he usually coats his every emotion in. Hinata is unsure if he should be proud that he's close enough with Makoto, that he feels he doesn't have to hold back, or only horrified. For now, he sticks to fear and, though he's taller, he practically withers under the pressure of Makoto's wrathful expression. 

 

“What are you doing?!” Makoto splutters. “What the hell was that?!"

 

Hinata studies Makoto's face for another moment, glances at Nagito's empty seat and abandoned teacup, still half-full, and quickly realizes he's fucked up purely by how angry Makoto is. 

 

“I…” The wooden floors are suddenly very appealing to him. “I just, hold up- I don't know?"

 

His voice sounds helpless, and he damn well knows it, but he really has no idea why he just-

 

“Oh- Literally- kill me now,” He sighs, running one hand through his hair as he stares, wide-eyed at the table. "I don't know what I was thinking. It just-"

 

Makoto must see the regret weighing down his eyes because his expression softens noticeably. "Look, nobody's killing anybody, so we don't need to worry yet…  but that poor kid, he just- Hinata, what am I going to do with you?”

 

“I don't know if I'd call him poor," Hinata shoots off, a mild bitter tone taking residence in his voice. He still feels sorry. But the residual anger doesn't let up easy for anything.

 

“Why not?” Makoto says, less as a question.

 

“Why not?!" Hinata grapples. “You know, he's tried to kill us all. Three times! He wants us dead!”

 

“He's- You know? His mental state isn't the best, and it's not up to you to blame him for something he can't help!”  Makoto defends. "Towards the end of the game his mental state, due to cancer, was so far gone- and you all treated him like garbage without even trying to understand him! You know what? I bet he has a good heart- scratch that. I know he does.”

 

“What about the start of the program?”  He asked. “He almost killed-”

 

“Imposter?”  Makoto asked, his voice raising. 

 

"He tried to kill us all," Hinata mutters because he's running out of valid points. It's just that his own is such a big point in the first place, it's almost unreasonable to expect more to back up his idea. Murder should justify any dislike.

 

“No, he didn't!” Makoto says fiercely. “He wanted somebody to make it out alive. You ought to know that better than anyone, Hinata. You all don't seem to get it, or to even want to get it- that was a suicide mission! He wanted to die, then! That was his goal- to die for the rest of you! It wasn't his choice for that plan to fail, it was his luck interfering again. We don't have control over it! He doesn't have control over it!"

 

Hinata's expression is gruff. "I know he doesn't."

 

"Factually, you might," Makoto says. "But there's a difference between factually and emotionally. You know I watched him cry that night? Over the cameras in his cottage, he cried. Somebody with a deteriorating mental state felt so bad that they defied the wiring of their own brain, all just to cry."

 

“Why didn't he kill himself then?” Hinata says, digging in cruelly. 

 

“Because he held out hope that he could assist in the next murder. He wanted to live to help somebody get their freedom- he wanted it to be you… He said so.”

 

Hinata felt empty.

 

He'd needed someone to blame for all of it. He hadn't realized how torn he still was from the events in the program. There were some of them who had to wake up every morning and greet their killers as friends, and Hinata hadn't counted himself among them for good reason. But he hadn't recognized his insidious anger, his burning need for something- some scapegoat, some mode by which to release it all. He had been using Nagito, forcing him into a peg he didn't fit in the first place because his addled brain couldn't figure out any other person to blame more than he blamed Nagito. He didn't blame any of the people who had actually killed others, even though they believed to their core that the program had been real life. Nagito had been mentally compromised. But even then, the program was over and done. And nothing about it mattered anymore. None of the consequences carried over, and here Hinata was, still pointing fingers.

 

A sharp needle of guilt dug into his heart. He felt the stances shift. Instead of equals, now he felt more like a child being chastised for being bratty. 

 

He certainly had been.

 

“Wait," Hinata said, not sharply, but rather, with vague, depressed interest. "You said he talked about me. Who...?”

 

Makoto paused. "Um. You know... He wasn't in the best of... Well, he wasn't all there."

 

“Right.”

 

“I wouldn't recommend you tell him that you know, but… he kind of talks to his house plants.”

 

A sharp look. “What?”

 

“I don't know. Look, I didn't wire his brain! But one of his coping mechanisms- I guess- is talking to his plants, and... He gets pretty existential with his orchids.”

 

"He talked about me… to his house plant.”  Hinata isn't quite sure how he feels about this conversation anymore, between that and the fact apparently Makoto knows more about Nagito than Hinata does, even though he did have an unfair advantage in the beginning.

 

Makoto reaches out for his hands, grasping them lightly, and raising them to rest on the top of the table. He looks him in the eyes sincerely when he talks. “Look, Nagito is really hurting right now, and not because he's crazy, but because he's surrounded by people who only reinforce his... inferiority complex- by always ostracizing him. He's just… Hinata, he just really needs somebody and he doesn't know how to ask for it, you get me? Please?"

 

Hinata tries to look away, still frowning, still attempting to be upset at anyone other than himself. It's selfish. But he can't make himself look into Makoto's eyes right now, as fearless and honest as they are. Makoto just shifts his angle and catches Hinata's stare anyways. "He just needs a friend he can both accept and appreciate… He said so himself to you, right? He just wants somebody to love, and I think the only person on this island who can really do that is you."

 

Hinata sucks his teeth ineffectually because Makoto just keeps going, and it's all true- every word- but Hinata wishes for all the world that it weren't. The last thing he wants to be told is that he hadn't realized how big his part in Nagito's life was. 

 

"He really cares about you, even now. And yes, you're part ultimate hope, but you're also Hinata the reserve course student, all right? You're Hinata. I dunno. Maybe just... revealing that side of you. Maybe it'd be enough to make him open up to you."

 

One thing that Makoto is really good at is convincing somebody about any one thing. He is impassioned when it matters, and both of these suddenly snap together to totally convince Hinata that this is a good plan of action to follow. Hinata pretends to be less on board than he actually is by not bringing it up at all.

 

“Uh," Hinata managed to get out. “Then we... need to go find him, like, right now.”

 

“It's probably no use," Makoto tells him, which is both upsetting and convenient because Hinata doesn't think he can stand anyway.

 

“He probably just needs some time to air off. You could probably do with some as well. Maybe some time to show you really regret it, you know?"

 

Hinata agrees with a slight nod, and then Makoto says, "Geez, you really messed that one up."

 

“Thanks.”

 

Hinata seriously had Nagito wrong this whole time. Processing it over just made him feel worse. But then- Then, now that he thought about it, he wasn't any better than anyone else. 

 

Hinata wonders if everything they've said would be received well- in the event that Nagito had never left. Had he still been there, only listening in, and... He would probably open the door carefully, hair still a mess, clinging onto his own baggy jacket sleeves with his arms crossed, ashamed yet determined. Maybe he'd wrap his bony arms around Hinata, pulling him into a stiff embrace. He could practically feel it, the way they'd sway with Nagito whispering his undying forgiveness. They'd kiss, and his metal fingers would drift down to his hip, and they'd murmur between them...

 

“Hinata?”

 

Hinata jumped, his heart lurching. "I'm not gay.”

 

It was the first thing out of his mouth, his response to himself. Makoto looked a fair amount of confused, seeing as his statement had been both blunt and unprompted.

 

“I never said you were. I mean, not at this very moment- but it sounds like you've got your own problems to deal with.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“I didn't say anything!”

 

“Yeah, but you were thinking it. I can tell.”

 

“Well... Duh. I guess. Whatever. Look, let's just tackle things in the moment. I'm so sorry to have upset you-” He picked up and took a bite of his forgotten bagel. They had been doing so much bickering back and forth they had barely started their breakfasts. “And I'm sorry for… not telling you about the whole trial thing.”

 

“Why didn't you tell me before?”  Hinata asked.

 

Makoto sighed. “I thought it was something for you guys to figure out for yourselves, but even by the end of the program, nobody had ever really considered it from that angle. I kept waiting, cos' I thought you'd come to that conclusion eventually, but it just never happened.”

 

“We… didn’t think we had to consider all that. He was just our... Enemy? I guess?”

 

“Do you really think there is ever such a black and white story?” Makoto said, staring at him, his eyes flat and unimpressed.

 

“There was Junko," Hinata said casually.

 

“Okay, but she’s, like, the only one! Anyways, have you got a plan for how you’re gonna apologize to your guy?”

 

Hinata started. “He’s not… mine. Okay? He’s just… him.”

 

Makoto set his bagel down for a moment, and suddenly Hinata noticed how silent everything was. The restaurant had been clear for a long time, but the pleasant smell of pastries and syrup hung in the air around them. The air conditioning, coughing up its lungs of fresh, cool air- and even that was soundless. Everywhere, the comfortable blanket of a tense situation's private resolution hung in the room. 

 

Everything took a pause for Makoto. Even the sun seemed to slow its drizzle into the room. “Hinata…” His airy voice came a bit louder than he meant for it. “I know that’s it’s really not my place, but-”

 

“What?” Hinata asked, wearily. 

 

Makoto’s mouth opened. "You know what?”

 

Hesitation, warm on the back of his palm resting on the table.

 

“Um, on second thought… forget about it.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Hinata is ready to punch himself in the face- with an entire car- and maybe if he was lucky, it'd be enough to kill him.

 

“Seriously!” Hinata argued. “I'm guilty enough already! Let me apologize!”

 

Makoto shook his head as they walked across the wooden boardwalk outside of the cottages.

 

“Would he take you seriously?" Makoto asked as though he were going to start rattling off other questions that would be equally as constricting. For now, he left it at one.

 

“I mean, no, probably not, but when does he ever?!” Hinata protested.

 

“I suppose you could go cry in his arms. That might convince him.”

 

“I'm not going to- Come on- You just…. Damn it.”

 

“Seriously, would you even have the slightest idea on how to start and go about apologizing to him? It's not like you were the most- ah, gregarious- at our little breakfast thing earlier. This is Nagito we're talking about."

 

“I know who we're talking about, thanks," Hinata snapped. “Trust me, I know him better than anybody.” Hinata feels slightly upset that his statement no longer holds true against what Makoto told him earlier. Maybe Hinata had seen Nagito on the surface, but Makoto had intimate knowledge of the Nagito behind literal closed doors. 

 

Maybe Hinata doesn't know Nagito better than anybody here. Maybe it was just a lie he told himself to make him feel better about the fact that he invested a ridiculous amount of time in his relationship and understanding Nagito, only to realize that he knows very little despite his effort. He cared because he wanted to be a good friend. He'd probably recognized, from the start, the small hand his developing feelings for Nagito had in all of it. 

 

He'd stick to his cover. It was the only thing he was sure of- he wanted to, at the very least, be a good friend. 

 

"So how are you going to make it up to him?” Makoto asks.

 

“Hmm?" Hinata asks, his chin lifting a little.

 

“Well, you gotta, like, bond with him somehow- I dunno.”

 

“Well, are you suggesting I do this alone?!” Hinata asks, worry clenching his throat. “You have to help. Please."

 

“I’ll think about it.” Makoto concedes, passively. 

 

“You’ll think about it?!" 

 

“I mean... Maybe,” Makoto says blankly. “But I think that if somebody expects something of you, it’s your responsibility to do it, even if it’s hard.”

 

‘You’re just getting cryptic, now.”

 

“Am I?” Makoto grinned, and for a moment, it was like Hinata was looking at some mirrored version of nagito- only not some devil coaxing complete catastrophe, and not as attractive. Not that Makoto wasn’t good looking, but he wasn’t handsome the way Nagito was.

 

“I just don’t get him. I want to, I want to believe he’s still the same guy I met, but… you know, it’s just hard. To start, does he really think he’s as worthless as he says he is- or is it all an act?” Hinata postulated aloud.

 

Makoto shrugged. “At this point? It’s anybody's game. Why do you ask, can't you tell?”

 

Hinata took a moment to get his thoughts in their proper places before he spoke- a very important step when it came to analyzing the Roman candle of mystery that was Nagito Komaeda.

 

“I just feel like he really does have hope- he gets disappointed sometimes, and some of his most truthful moments were spent looking down on the ultimates' lackluster- skills, or, you know, talents. It feels like he just- it feels like he's more normal than he lets on, and a lot more selfish... than, I guess, the way he appears.”

 

“Maybe he feels bad about being a normal level of self-centered?” Makoto suggests. "Maybe he feels that he's useless compared to the rest, and in comparison rather than in general?”

 

Hinata sighs. The conspiracy has him mentally exhausted already. “What are you getting at?”

 

“Like, maybe he's just self-conscious, and all of this self-deprecation is some kind of act he uses to ensure that the others won't pay him any mind?”

 

“But that contradicts the whole... insanity thing,” Hinata proposes. “And that's the problem. I don't think he's as mad as he lets on to either.”

 

“You think he's sane?” Makoto asks. "Because if you do, I hate to have to break it to you, dude, but-"

 

“No! No, no,” Hinata interjects. “He's off. The guy chatted about me to his house plants in the simulation, he-”

 

Hinata stops, a spark suddenly igniting in his thoughts. and invisible film over his windpipe, stamping out his words from forming.

 

“He just… He did it to….”

 

“To himself?” Makoto supplied.

 

“Yes.” Hinata felt the air drain from his lungs. "He- wait."

 

“Look, I’m sorry,” Makoto said. “He really is a masochist, I swear I did everything in my power to help, but he really fooled you…”

 

“I know- damn it!” Hinata felt his fists tighten. “I know some of it wasn’t acting but… why would he do that? Push up his insanity just for show? So that we’d be miserable, and he’d be even more miserable?!”

 

Something in Makoto’s head told him that maybe he knew a little more about this than he let on, but Hinata didn’t ask for any more than that. Today had been ripe enough with epiphanies concerning Nagito.

 

“There’s just so much I don’t understand about him. He makes me feel so… unwanted. He’s always kissing up to the man in my head, but it feels like he doesn't care either way about me. You know, like- why can’t he just be like worthless, little Hinata? Everything is 'Ohh, Izuru, your talent, your hope', but it's never about me, you know?”

 

“How is Izuru, by the way?” Makoto asks, slowly. 

 

“He’s still kicking. Hasn’t come out to talk in a couple days, but I’m not missing him- that’s not the point here," Hinata sighs.

 

“Oh, I know,” Makoto says plainly. “It’s just that Izuru’s important, too… he is a human being trapped in you, so… whatever. Back to Nagito. About that... maybe consider the possibility that he does like you, only he has a bit of trouble expressing it because it goes against everything he allegedly stands for?”

 

“Allegedly stands for,” Hinata smirks at himself with pity. “We can’t even know that for sure…. Wait, what do you mean he possibly likes me?”

 

“Just think about it!” He insisted. “Imagine you’re Nagito…”

 

“I’m going to stop you right there.”

 

“Just… If Nagito really does like and respect you but is afraid to show that he loves… somebody like you... Maybe he just projects everything he loves about you onto Kamakura as a scapegoat?”

 

“But he treats you the same way," Hinata says flatly. "It’s the Ultimate Hope status, I’m telling you!” 

 

Makoto groaned. They were both getting tired of the conversation, but Nagito was an endless well for interpretation and analysis, and, being acquainted with him, doing your fair share of over thinking felt mandatory, rather than excess.

 

“That’s a good point, actually. He treats us about the same, even though you’re only half... um, 'Ultimate Hope', and from his standpoint, at least, the way he’s presenting it, that should make you... Lesser than me. Right?”

 

Hinata did pause to consider that one. “Or maybe it’s just that he literally can’t treat us any better?”

 

“Yeah, well. I still like my theory better.”

 

“Let's take a break," Hinata says. “We're going in circles. I bet you five dollars that he’s already somehow calculated that we would have reached these conclusions by now, and is somehow manipulating us behind the scenes again.”

 

Makoto huffed. “But I actually feel like we’re closer to some answers.”

 

“Please?”

 

“You’re just worried I’ll start making jokes about you two dating again, aren't you?”

 

“He’s just- fuck you, man.” Hinata rolled his eyes, giving Makoto a hearty shove. 

 

“Back atcha, then!” He smiled. His only physical strength probably resided in his elbow, which Hinata found, once more, jabbed into his side with surprising weight. As they separated and then collected together again, Makoto sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Seriously, though, you guys were… dicks to him.”

 

Hinata shrugged, guiltily attempting to avoid the subject. “Somehow that sounds weird coming from you.”

 

“What?”

 

“The word ‘dick’... as an insult," He clarified. “Very professional, to call your… recovery patients ‘dicks’. And one, to his face.”

 

Makoto muffled a short chord of laughter. “You suck,” He said. “But seriously, you are making bounds to treat him better… Though, as a conscious effort? I’ll see if I can drop Sonia a couple hints later, see where it snowballs from there.“

 

“You really think that’ll work?”

 

Makoto cleared his throat. “Before the first trial, he was a great guy, right?”

 

"Yeah… what of it?” Hinata says. 

 

“Maybe that’s really what he’s like… and the insanity just came out with the game and the hope, and he’s having a hard time just… stopping. Even though he could, people wouldn't believe him if it all suddenly just stopped… maybe?” Makoto shrugs ostentatiously to pretend as though he doesn't truly believe this and that he's just bouncing ideas off of him again.

 

"You're just making stuff up," Hinata declares.

 

“I know that he’s trying," Makoto says. There was some, hollow, desperate ring in Makoto’s voice, something so estranged there, and Hinata knew that whatever he must’ve seen Nagito do over that camera must have told a totally different story than what he saw. “Look, I know that he’s trying, and that's all I do know. Anyways, enough serious conversation for the day. You still haven't come up with a plan as to how you're going to apologize to Nagito."

 

“Sounds like another serious conversation to me,” Hinata scoffed.

 

“I mean unless you do want to make it up to Nagito by crying in his arms…”

 

“Absolutely not!” Hinata yelped. Though, he knew he really wouldn't mind it as much as he let on. The thought brought with it some amount of wistful longing. He would probably never be able to act on any feelings of any kind for Nagito because Nagito only loved Kamakura. A man who loved his possibility but hated what he was- there was no changing Nagito's mind. Knowing it wouldn't fundamentally work did not affect how much Hinata wants to do things, see things with him. He sees it so vividly in his head, their entire relationship as dictated by some imaginary force. Snuggling close together, sticky with humidity, or just laying in bed together in the early hours- Things vastly more passionate, vastly more dispassionate, and then everything in between. Staying together forever. Getting a little older, setting things in stone- maybe, in metal- and, down the line...

 

"I kind of want to adopt kids.”

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

Hinata stared at Makoto, uncomprehending, for all of five seconds before snapping to attention. "Wha- No, uh-"

 

“Fantasizing about Nagito again?” Makoto said.

 

Unable to form a verbal response, Hinata lightly punched Makoto in the arm, even though it was something he never really did, and it came off as awkward.

 

“Well, do you have any ideas?” Makoto asked, his voice raising in pitch as he reached up with one hand to absent-mindedly smooth down his sleeve.

 

“For what?”

 

“For making the whole ‘treating him like trash and shunning him’ thing up to him? Honestly, if you don't wanna take this seriously, I’ll just go hang out with him instead.”

 

“No, wait! Please stay- seriously, I need your help with this,” Hinata begged. He knew that Makoto was partially kidding, but he really did get slightly sassy with him sometimes. Again, he took it as a compliment that Makoto was so casual with him, but when Makoto is about 50% of the planets' favorite person ever, you don’t want to upset him. 

 

“I know you need my help. As far as ideas, I have one or two, but I want to hear your ideas first. This should come from you.”

 

“Well, maybe like..." He was, of course, being put on the spot when he hadn't at all been considering how to make it up to Nagito in favor of postulating over Nagito's secret motivations and his own internal struggle for emotional clarification. "Like, an event? We get all the others together and do something for him? Like, as one big group of hope and acceptance or something…” Hinata suggested lamely. “...He probably wouldn’t believe it even more if it was such a big deal. And he would hate the noise.”

 

“I hadn't thought of that.” Makoto nodded. "Good catch. That could have been bad.”

 

“Speaking of, we probably need to tell everyone, right?"

 

“Tell them what?”

 

“Just… clear up Nagito's mental state with them? And just remind them of the fact that he didn't deliberately try to kill us all the first time, and that he did try to die for us before anything bad happened? I'd say it's a pretty important revelation.”

 

“Well, you could tell them,” Makoto says.

 

"I'm trying to make it easier for myself. People already have their suspicions. You of all people should know this! I bring up anything about the guy, and suddenly 'Ohh, Hinata's gay'! I couldn't do it."

 

“Aren't you, though?”

 

“I'm not!"

 

“... Whatever you say. I guess.”

 

“Besides, you're more convincing in an argument than I am, anyway.”

 

“Well, I don't know about that. You have your fair share of skills. From what we could tell about your role in the simulation, at least... You're not too shabby.”

 

“You know, I'm genuinely touched by that, thank you.”

 

“This just in!” Makoto crows. “Hinata has been discovered to have the emotional capacity to display gratitude! Scientists everywhere are shocked! Reports say- Get this, folks- that the event procuring the reaction doesn't even concern Nagito this time!"

 

“Shove off.”

 

Makoto laughed as they set foot on the bridge to the center Island. They didn't really have any specific destination in mind and simply let their feet carry them. The only difference now was that they could hear the distinct difference between the soft sifting noises of sand and the stiff comfort of the wooden planks. At least Makoto, who had neglected to bring sandals this time, was relieved by the change in textures.

 

Hinata spoke up again. "Back to the whole plan thing. What was your idea for dealing with Nagito?”

 

“Well, earlier you said you'd want an event with 'only us'. Is that what I think it means?”

 

“Uh... I mean, I definitely need you to be there. I don't know- what you, you know. What you think I think it means."

 

Makoto smiled. "Just sayin' that I'd be happy to be there. But we need to specify what kind of event you had in mind.”

 

“Something indoors. Or just in private, like, with zero or minimal risk of it being crashed by Gundam, or Akane or somebody. Didn't you say you already had an idea?"

 

“Well, it's kind of typical, but maybe that's good for you both. I was just thinking of, maybe… some kind of sleepover?””

 

“... A slumber party.”

 

“Well, yeah! Our teenage years were kind of snatched out from under us. I've been thinking about that a lot lately… It wouldn't be bad to indulge in something a little childish now and then, right? And who's going to stop us? We could do it at your place, rent a movie, less talk, more bonding- it'll be good. We'll bring food, and it'll be really nice and just kind of lighthearted. You just won't have to think about anything! It's like a... better version of what we do when I spend the night over here with you- but with Nagito!”

 

Makoto is charming. To be sure, Hinata isn't certain whether he picked that up by working at Future Foundation under Togami, or if he's genuinely excited about all this, and is dying for him to say yes. And Hinata desperately wishes he could just turn down the offer, but he's pinned between the fact that he has absolutely no idea what else he'd do and the fact that he just knows Makoto will make that face if he says 'no'. 

 

“Damn you and your unparalleled powers of persuasion," Hinata grumbles. “Fine. I'll do it.”

 

“Yes!” Makoto cheered. “I knew I could convince you! Don't worry about it- it's going to be a lot of fun!”

 

“Well, are you going to bring Kiri?” Hinata asked if only to get back at him a little.

 

“Hmm? Oh, well. I suppose I did run it by her to see if she agreed. Maybe she'd wanna come.”

 

“You had this planned in advance?”

 

“Yes? This was clearly bound to happen. What kind of friend would I be if I left you without a clue as to how to deal with Nagito, huh? He's a tough nut to crack, even with the both of us trying to think of a way to get through to him.”

 

“You think a slumber party plan you hatched with your girlfriend is my solution?” Hinata says sarcastically.

 

Makoto pursed his lips, and his walking slowed a considerable amount once more. “Ah... Yeah, about that. She's technically... Like, she's not my girlfriend."

 

"...You're kidding me.”

 

“I mean!” Makoto cut himself off with an anxious laugh. “I can totally see how you'd make that mistake! I mean, we're really close, and I love her and all, but-”

 

“You… you live together.” Non-consecutive jumble as he works over the new knowledge. “You're joking.”

 

“... Yeah, we live together, but... I don't know….”

 

“Makoto, you motherfu-”

 

“Language!” Makoto chirps.

 

“You are so totally in love with her! I guess I missed the part where you couldn't grow a pair of balls to tell her?!”

 

“I did confess to her! I swear I did, and she felt the same but… that was right after we left Hope's Peak and… We got busy? I don't know. We haven't discussed it since.”

 

“You… Like, you're always saying, 'Oh, Hinata, what am I gonna do with you?' but seriously? What am I going to do with you? What happened to you?”

 

“... Another murder game?”

 

“Oh. Um...”

 

“Eh. You figure it out.”

 

“Wait, so let me get this straight." Hinata adjusts his tie slightly, only now remembering that it is far too tight a fit. With Nagito out of the picture he no longer feels terribly uncomfortable. “You just haven't talked to her about it? Like, you haven't cuddled with her? Or kissed her?”

 

“No?"

 

“Why not?”

 

“We have to… We have more important things to be worrying about, and when we get down time together at home- I guess we hug sometimes, but I don't want to bring it up. Cos' maybe her feelings have changed, or something... You know, she's never brought it up either. I figured she would mention it first but- I dunno, women are confusing, okay?!”

 

Hinata huffed, picking the pace for the both of them when he heard Makoto mutter something under his breath that sounded a lot like “Not that you’ll ever have that problem.”

 

Hinata turns, facing him as they sort of come to a gradual stop. "It's about Kirigiri. Honestly, do you think she's under any obligation to start that discussion- literally anything about love and affection, even if she really did want to? Didn't you tell me it was hard for her to come to terms with it in the first place because she was disdainful of it for a long time? You know, she was probably counting on you to start it off."

 

“Shit. I guess. Yeah. You're- You're probably right." Makoto sounded- at the very least, rattled. 

Hinata looked over at him. "You can talk to her when you get back home, but you can't give me love advice if you're this much of an idiot.”

 

"So you admit that you're taking love advice from me, too."

 

“I- You- I'm not-!"

 

“Hinata’s in denial!” Makoto practically sang. "Hinata's in denial!"

 

“I just said I wasn't! I don't-”

 

“You're in the closet-"

 

“You are the biggest asshat ever-”

 

“Hinata’s in love with Nagi- Mmh!"

 

Hinata managed to slap a hand over his mouth, and for a while, they grappled as Hinata attempted to keep Makoto from uttering another word. He had a varying degree of success- but near the end, Makoto managed to break free of him for a moment to yell “Nagito Komaeda!” at the top of his lungs.

 

And then, before Hinata snapped his neck right then and there, Makoto backed up, laughing breathlessly as he put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, okay, I'm stopping, I'm stopping!"

 

Hinata sighed. “You are the worst.”

 

“And you... are the gayest,” Makoto finished, a smile still stuck to his face.

 

Makoto laughed as Hinata gave him another shove, putting his foot down to keep himself from being shoved right off the bridge. Hinata cleared his throat. “Anyways, are you spending the night or….”

 

“What, so I can tease you more?”

 

“No- Just… so I'm not alone.”

 

“Crying in Nagito’s arms is still an option.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Strike two for language, and I'm afraid that I can't. I promised Kyoko I'd help with some paperwork… and now I really need to talk to her.”

 

"Oh, okay," Hinata relented. Something occurred to him- “You said something before about how your apartments only have one bed, right? Then where the hell does Kiri sleep?”

 

Makoto suddenly stiffened, his face going entirely red. “No, we… share the bed? Okay- It's not like that, don't give me that look, it's just that Future Foundation never got around to giving me my own room. After like two weeks, Kiri felt guilty about having me sleep on the couch every night…”

 

Hinata shoots him a look that screams out his very thoughts. “I don't believe a single goddamn word of that.”

 

“Okay, fine! I've sort of snuck in a couple hugs? Cuddling? It's not a big deal…" Makoto says this as though he's trying to be casual, but there's an excited tinge to the corners of his voice that Hinata is practically trained to catch. 

 

“And you just never brought up the fact that you would love to date her, like, properly?”

 

“We don't have time to date! Unlike you," Makoto says, flusteredly.

 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Hinata says indignantly.

 

“... Exactly what you think it means.”

 

And they walked, putting the central island behind them with the tap of their shoes against the wooden planks of the bridge ringing out across the bay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooo boi I am so sorry this got out so late! School was kicking my ass, so was therapy and Martial arts, and there was homecoming, and homework and spirit week, UG It's been a wreck, thank you all who have been reading, this is the most response I've ever gotten on a story EVER!!! Thank you all so so much!!


	4. Chapter 4

The soft click of the door code behind him seemed almost intent on announcing his arrival.

 

"Kiri? I’m home!” Makoto called out, prying his shoes off with his foot, toes digging into the back of his own heels and tossing his Future Foundation emblazoned tie halfway across the room.

 

“Why so nervous today?” Kirigiri mused, her bare feet appearing in the doorway,  holding a mug of bitter coffee. She was already dressed in her nightclothes- a thick black sweater and a pair of loose, striped sweatpants. The ends flopped over her feet and were always dragging on the floor. She insisted that it had never inhibited her moving about the room, but Makoto also knew that she often times stood on the hems of her pants when she came to a stop. “Welcome home.”

 

Makoto smiled. "Thank you.”

 

“Your trip went well, I'm assuming?” She asked, turning and heading back into the study. Makoto followed, and, as he turned into the doorway, he caught with both arms the blanket that Kirigiri had plucked from the back of the swivel chair in front of her computer. The desk was coated in paperwork. There was an armchair in the back and two extra office chairs when they needed to work together. Future Foundation had recently offered them other living accommodations to suit their individual tastes concerning commute and proximity to their areas of preferred work- but neither Makoto nor Kirigiri were in any hurry to deal with the extra paperwork.

 

"Yeah. It was wonderful. It was nice to get a day off…  Hinata was fun to be with, as always.”

 

“I thought you looked rather happy," Kirigiri noted, taking a seat and shifting the mouse slightly to turn on the computer screen. She handed the mug of coffee to Makoto as she closed out of a couple windows. “Anything interesting today?”

 

“Yeah, actually,” He mumbled into his mug, suddenly feeling rather shy about the whole 'love confrontation' thing now that he was actually there. His chest felt like it was bubbling. Clearing his throat, he said, "Hinata is totally in the closet. No question.”

 

“Well, congratulations,” Kirigiri said sarcastically, a subtle smile gracing her lips. "Thank God that absolute mind-breaker of a mystery was solved. It's not like I immediately called it the first time I met him or anything, or even before that when I was watching him through the screen. Watching him help Nagito investigate- It was almost painful in a way.”

 

“Okay, okay, jeez. Just thought you should know he's hardcore pining for the psychopath.”

 

“And what else? It's not news. You're actually stalling to tell me something important, aren't you?”

 

"Mm. Have I ever mentioned how perceptive you are and how annoying it can be sometimes?” Makoto sighed.

 

Kirigiri took a small sip of her coffee. "Once or twice."

 

"Yeah, well, you're doing it again.”

 

“Your point being...?"

 

A deep breath- "Okay, look, there's something I've been thinking about recently, and I was a little scared to just ask you about. I just... I mean, I think we should really- Oh, God...” 

 

He brought a hand to cover his face. His palm was warm from holding the mug. “Just- never mind. Forget it."

 

Kyoko smiled. “Spit it out. If you need to talk, we should talk now.”

 

“It's hard for me to just come right out and say it," Makoto said, dejectedly. "Uh... It's just… I got some prompting over it and I think it’s time we have a discussion. About, you know… us?”

 

Kyoko simply shrugged and looked downwards. “What about 'us'?”

 

And now he had to say it. Makoto would be lying if he said he wasn't scared. His palms had been sweaty walking in the door, but now he had a hard time retaining his grip on the mug. His eyes darted around the room briefly to keep from looking directly into Kirigiri's eyes. A glance- she looked confused, determined. Ready to tackle another mystery. The blue light of the computer behind her set her in an LED halo. 

 

He opened his mouth and almost blurted aloud “I love you", but he stopped himself at the last second. There was a better way to do this. “Kiri… do you remember what I told you right before we left Hope's Peak with the others?”

 

“... Yes.” Her face is like iron, but it’s a little too flat to be natural, and Makoto can tell she’s already shielding herself. It probably wasn’t his proudest moment, pulling Kirigiri aside and lagging behind the group. He’d been a wreck, then, shaking with the exertion, with residual adrenaline in his bloodstream, and before it ran dry, he needed to say it. He held the escape button in his hand, limp by his side. He'd asked her if she’d ever want to see him again- after everything. Then he'd begged her-

 

He can’t even begin to look at her anymore. He tears his gaze away, staring at the wall as he recalls the way the air had felt back then. “I’ve been… terrified… to bring it up again.” His words came slower, heavier. “I need- I just want you… to know that...”

 

She looked tense when his eyes darted up to gauge her reaction. Tense and unprepared. He’d caught her out of her element, something she’d drop dead before showing to anybody else. He takes that knowledge with pride. Or, the amount of determination it took to push him over the edge. Diverting energy- All to his mouth, to his heart- he felt it in his whole body. 

 

“I still really, really love you.”

 

And he held his breath. 

 

“You… You’re sure?” There’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice that Makoto doesn’t remember having heard in a long time. 

 

“Of course I’m sure," He says, his voice husky and damaged. "I’ll love you until the day I... die.” It's stupid, but it's true, it's so- stupid, and true. 

 

Only it didn’t matter because he feels Kirigiri getting up, hears it rather than sees it, and he feels a gloved hand taking his hand, resting against his chest. His heart jumps into a flurried panic, beating against his ribcage hard enough that Makoto doubts their durability under the onslaught.

 

He can't say a word before her lips… Kyoko's lips were closing in. They press against the right corner of his mouth. It was like kissing him head-on was too overwhelming, and kissing anywhere else wouldn’t show him how much she meant it. Makoto felt those lips fit into the ridge of his own for a single dizzying moment. The rest of the world disappeared in that moment- and if it had all gone to hell around them in that instant, Makoto would've been okay with that, too.

 

She was gone fast, but the impact of that moment… he’d felt it once before. She hovered close for another moment. Straightening up, she covered his mouth with her hand, cheeks tinged pink as she studied the wall. 

 

“Any…” She seemed to be having trouble forcing the words out. “Any objections?”

 

Makoto sat for a moment, staring at her, his eyes wide over her gloved hand. When the world finally registered around him- A shell-shocked, almost unreadable nod. 

 

"... Then we're done, here," She said. Her voice carried the fragile edge of breathlessness. Like she would break into a smile, or into tears if given the slightest provocation for either. 

 

“I think I… I need a minute,” She said, excusing herself and taking a couple steps past him and towards the door. Makoto finally found his voice again. It was weak and crumbling, but it worked well enough for its last intended purpose. 

 

“You- uh… Did you want me to come, too?”

 

She shrugged, and Makoto knew that meant “Yes, but I won’t let you know it.”

 

He obediently followed her into the lounge.

 

___________________________

 

Simply crawling into his bed made him feel slightly distressed. He almost couldn't put his finger on why until he remembered two things. The first was that the night previous, he'd woken up in the middle of a wet dream regarding a psychopath. The second thing was, because of knowledge that had been revealed to him just hours earlier, the aforementioned psychopath had been revealed to be slightly less psychotic. 

 

He rolled over in his bed and slammed his hand down a little too forcefully on his bedside table as he grabbed blindly for his phone. He called it a ‘ phone’  but it was really just a standard-issue device that they were all given to contact certain Future Foundation members, sort of like a pager. Hinata only used it to contact Makoto, or, if business was concerned,  Byakuya or Kirigiri- Sometimes Asahina on rare occasions. He was given other contacts as well, who he rarely texted- Touko, the Ultimate literary prodigy, Hagakure, the Ultimate clairvoyant,  and Munakata, the second Ultimate hope.

 

He blinked the sleep that hung from his eyelashes, letting his fingertips hover over the physical keypad for a moment before he turned it on and unlocked it. 

 

He selected the messaging app and opened his chat with Makoto. Without contemplation or context, he typed “how’d it go with Kiri?” and hit 'send'. 

 

He studied the message he’d sent for a moment, before putting his phone back on the nightstand and rolling over onto his side.

 

What would it be like to live with Nagito- The way Kirigiri and Makoto did? Supposedly just as friends, but everybody else knew better. Even they, themselves- if he had his way. They would share rooms, share a living space. Hinata wondered if Nagito would like to share a bed and if they did… would Nagito cuddle? Hinata for a moment tried to imagine Nagito behind him, grumbling sleepily before turning and throwing a skinny arm around his waist from behind. They could cook in turns, too, though Hinata is a little concerned about putting Nagito in the kitchen. They could take coffee breaks between work, too, maybe. Like Makoto and Kirigiri do, only they wouldn’t be afraid to kiss until all the bitter taste had worn away from their lips. 

 

He could go see Nagito and apologize now. With Makoto gone, who was going to stop him? If Makoto had been serious at all about the whole slumber party thing, and Hinata is pretty sure he is, he should at least try to bond a little more before suddenly inviting him over to his cabin. It's doubtful. Showing up at this hour, unannounced, might only bring with it more suspicion and conflict.

 

Hinata knows he can't sleep unless he does something now, so he grabs a pen and paper from his bedside table groaning at nothing as he sits up again. His back ached. He slides his legs out of bed and finds his shirt from earlier abandoned on the floor. It takes him a minute to button it up in the dark and put on his pants the right way and he almost wants to retreat back into bed by the time he's got slippers on his feet. Hastily scribbling out letters he can barely see in the dark, Hinata tosses the pen back into the room and leaves the safety of his cottage. 

 

He only takes a moment to reach Nagito's cottage and he spends a moment in front of it debating whether or not to actually knock on the door. Beneath his knuckles, before they've even struck the wood once, the door opens before him. 

 

"Just my luck." He looks stunned. “Good evening, Hinata, what brings you here? I hope I'm not in any trouble."

 

Hinata clams up- Somehow, even preparing mentally wasn't enough to prepare him for facing Nagito. His luck and bullshit contrivances were sometimes just too powerful.

 

Hinata looked from his note to nagito and back again. He opened his mouth and nothing noteworthy came out beside an elongated, "Uhh..." 

 

Thankfully, or rather, regretfully, Nagito pipes up and spans the gap.

 

“If you're here to apologize, let me confirm to you that it is a waste of time. You don't have to regret a thing. If anything, I have more respect for you, knowing that you are aware of how much more importance you carry than me and that you are exercising only reasonable power over me… especially at the peak of my selfishness. Thank you for earlier. I need to be checked and put back in my place.”

 

It fell right from his mouth, no pauses or doubts in his words. Like he'd already practiced the speech, expecting to open the door to see Hinata there.

 

“More respect- Nagito- Hey!"

 

Nagito does look at him, blankly. As though he honestly expected that to be the end of it, and for Hinata to nod and accept it, and then to sheepishly withdraw to his own cottage. If things picked up and continued at this rate, it might very well be how things turned out. But it wasn't what Hinata had come there for- And Hinata wouldn't go down surrendering to Nagito's self-hatred.

 

“... I- I’m really sorry.”

 

Nagito shifted. “Didn't I just say you don't need to? You don't need to lie to me Hinata. You don't need to save your image or anything. You meant what you said- and you are right to throw me out. I was being troublesome. I'm filthy and ugly- I am so sorry you even have to look at me right now. I'm a piece of trash doing nothing but inconveniencing you. Even I can see that.”

 

The words just erupted from him without bar. But even so, it was the same deprecative dreck that Hinata had endured for months. Once you've heard it once, you've heard it a million time. He sighed heavily, not even looking away from Nagito for a second.

 

“Guess I have my work cut out for me.”

 

Nagito tilted his head. “I beg your pardon?”

 

Hinata wished he could've slapped the stupid look off his face- but instead he stood there, tapping his foot against the floor in a 4 by 4 rhythm. Something nice to keep him grounded. “It's just been something I've been thinking about… Something I really want to know the answer to.”

 

“Uh...If I can provide you answers of any kind, just let me know.”

 

Here goes.

 

“Nagito, what could I possibly do to prove to you that I do love you and care about you  and that we are equals?”

 

Hinata takes back that slapping comment. It seems, for the large majority, that his words had delivered enough of an emotional shock to practically do the job for him. Nagito just stares for a moment, contemplating the sentence, devouring and digesting the words without hunger, with tasteless compulsion.

 

“You humor me,” He says directly, the tone of his words coming along like the purest smallest white flowers. “There isn't anything.”

 

“Well…” Hinata sighed. “I guess we'll have plenty of time to figure it out.”

 

Deflect: "What is that? If you don't mind me asking," Nagito says timidly.

 

Hinata looked down at his hand to see the note he'd completely forgotten about.

 

“Ah! Well... I, uh... I didn't expect you to be awake so I was going to leave you a note."

 

A pause- "And, just a... a thing. You're not ugly, Nagito. You're really not."

 

“I see…” Nagito's voice sounds empty. Confused. “You really are kind.”

 

“I'm not kind, I'm-”  Hinata was so tempted- “You're not filthy, either," He said firmly, trying to pretend that his voice didn’t waver as he said so by skating right over it and crossing his arms for good measure. Nagito opened his mouth to differ and Hinata scowled at him.

 

“Look, I'm tired, and I don't want to argue because we could do this all night. Trust me. No, look at me." He said as he chased Nagito's eyes with his own.  Hinata handed him the note, glancing for a second to see that their hands transferred the paper properly, and then looking back up at him, sincerely. “Could you just… Accept the apology so I can sleep?”

 

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize about… It was all my fault.”

 

“Nagito!" Hinata barked. “Look, I'm not going to sleep unless you forgive me! Just accept it, alright?! I'm sorry!” He huffed, his eyes darting down. 

 

“... That’s okay, Hinata… I forgive you.”

 

He felt his whole body depressurize and he let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you," He crowed. "Finally. Thank you."

 

He hadn't really looked at him the entire time. Well, he'd been staring, but he hadn't really seen him. His pretty face, starch white hair falling into his gray eyes, curling in spontaneous ringlets. His bed head, like he’d been tossing restlessly before getting up and meeting Hinata at the door, and-

 

“Where were you headed?” Hinata asks, frowning as he studies Nagito’s surprisingly long eyelashes for a moment. He hadn't stopped to think about it, but now that everything was off his chest, and he could actually afford to pay attention, he found it odd that Nagito had caught him right then at the door.

 

Nagito dodged the question with a shrug, cramming his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, which was actually zipped up for a change. “I… Just, um. Out. Why?"

 

Hinata saw slightly behind him, into the room. On the floor behind him, crumpled up and looking dejected, Hinata recognized Nagito's shirt. 

 

Nagito was shirtless under that hoodie.

 

“Oh! No reason! No reason whatsoever!” Hinata spluttered quickly.

 

Nagito took another moment to look appropriately confused as his lips puckered. Hinata would be lying if he were to say that he wasn’t making mental comparisons between the Nagito that stood before him to a pure, little duckling. “... If you say so, Hinata.” He glanced back at the door like he was hoping to go back inside. 

 

“So- uh, before I go. Do you want to hang out after this? Like, tomorrow? Because you know, hanging out after this will be stupid, because it's late… but tomorrow? I have some explaining to do. I at least owe you that."

 

“Explaining? Hinata, you've done nothing wrong."

 

"Are you going to hang out with me or not?”

 

Nagito shook his head like it was the most foolish suggestion in the world. “I couldn't possibly trouble you so.”

 

Hinata bit his lip. “Okay… Let me ask you this again. Do you not want to come hang out with me tomorrow?”

 

“Well, if you're asking me to,  I suppose there's no way I can say no,” he admitted sullenly. “But I don't understand why you'd want to."

 

“And I don't quite see why I wouldn't want to spend time with a friend,” Hinata responded in an attempt to bite down his irritability and say something nicer than what he meant.

 

Nagito's metal fingers suddenly fall off of their place on the door frame. “So you want…  you want to call me a friend?" His face looks drawn, sallow. "Why do you feel the need to lower yourself like this? Don't do it on my account.”

 

Hinata growls at the saccharine act and took the opportunity to reach out and grab Nagito's lowered hand. The excuse was there and he would be damned if he let such an opportunity go. His prosthetic hand is cold, the metal more stiff than he expected it to be. Strangely, the sharp angles make it easier to grip and he has to fight off the tangible urge to kiss the back of the machine, where he knew a fair amount of nerve sensors were clustered. He would know- he had helped to build it with Makoto and Souda. Or, at least, the good old part of himself called Kamakura.

 

After shaking it off as best he could, he held Nagito's hand between both of his own and looked him straight in the eye again. Nagito, now extremely flustered, first made a motion as though he wanted to pull his hand back, but, realizing that Hinata wouldn't let go, he lowered his widened eyes to the ground shyly. Knowing now that he lost his composure this easily, Hinata wished he would have gone ahead and held his hand during the class trials. Hell, from the minute he knew the guy. It would have made everything so much easier.

 

"I am your friend, and I care what happens to you and nothing you could ever do or say is going to change that… Could you give up already? You don't have to keep this act going.”

 

He shook his head at Hinata, sadly. "No… That's wrong.” It came out defeated, upset. "You weren't my friend in the simulation. I doubt you're going to just up and decide to be my friend now, either. You shouldn't lower yourself like this... I'm a murderer. I appreciate the effort, but I couldn't bear dampening your light with my presence.”

 

“You're not a murderer.”  Hinata gripped his hand tighter, “You wouldn't have killed anybody, I realize now that we…  we misconstrued you. It's our fault for thinking that you were any different than one of us.”

 

“It's my fault for throwing you off.”

 

'Which time?' Hinata wants to ask, only he doesn't quite think that will help his case.

 

“You knew it was a lost cause from the second you survived,” Hinata boldly accused. Not because he has any evidence to back it up, but because of something in his gut- maybe Kamakura's approval of the theory. It just seems like something that would happen to Nagito.

 

And Nagito smiles. “I did… What of it?”

 

Hinata can't think of a response fast enough, and before he's ready, Nagito hums dismissively. “Well, friend… I think that about is all the time I have.”

 

"I'm sorry to have kept you awake,” Hinata says eventually, rubbing his thumb over the back of Nagito's hand. Nagito gives a twitch like he's not used to feeling anything in that part of himself. To be fair, he probably isn't. “I'll leave you alone for now."

 

Nagito's expression softens almost immediately. "I apologize for keeping you up, too.” 

 

Hinata gives a lingering squeeze on his hand before letting him go. Before he can even think about the implications, he says, finally, “Sweet dreams, Nagito."

 

He sees Nagito smile at him contentedly, but there's a distinct difference in that it is mostly genuine this time. In that same, dreamy, floaty way, a light casts on his face, a smile pushed up his cheeks. His eyes glow with something ethereal. “You too, Hinata. Sweet dreams.”

 

Those words lift him up so much to hear. Nagito steps back, and so does Hinata, and when the door closes, Hinata loses any semblance of his falsely refined posture.

 

“Damn," He huffs before he turns on his heels and walks away quietly. He hears the tapping of his shoes on the wood, just like on the bridge from earlier, but nothing moves beyond the rustle of the shadowy palm trees in the distance, and the forever tug and push of the sea. 

 

'Sweet dreams'.

 

Hinata decides that it's something he should tell Nagito more often. He slips a hand into his pants pocket and is greeted by his phone. He can't even remember slipping it into his pocket. He lets the screen illuminate the surrounding air. Checking his texts- Makoto had already replied.

 

[How’d it go with Kiri?]

 

[Amazing! Thank you for snapping me out of it, I really needed it!]

 

[Like, it’s no big deal, but now we’re not at a standstill. Thanks to you!]

 

Hinata smiled, pleased with himself.

 

[You sound like a giddy teenage girl. OH WAIT]

 

Was he going to let Makoto have the satisfaction of the truth? The fact that Hinata was incredibly happy for him? Probably not. He made his way back to his cottage, taking a moment to appreciate the sound of the waves echoing in the breeze. It was pleasantly cool at night time,  and the chamber performance of foreign crickets he didn't recognize was elusively calming. He grabbed his door handle and opened it before checking his phone messages one last time before bed.

 

[You are my best friend.]

 

[good night my man <3]

 

Hinata smiled at Makoto’s heart emoticon and decided to return the favor. 

 

[Goodnight <3]

 

Hinata set his phone down on his bedside table and kicked off his shoes. He didn’t care about climbing into his bed with his clothes on. He turns on his side, ready to resign for the night again. Nagito… hadn't left his cottage after Hinata came.

 

… Was he maybe going to visit him?

 

He shrugged off the thought, it was probably just wishful thinking on his part. Maybe he was going for a walk because he couldn’t sleep. On that end, though, Hinata wished he would’ve stayed, or asked about his sleep… maybe he’d be able to squeeze a bit of luck out of nowhere and he'd get to sit with him for a while in a domestic setting. 

 

He spends a minute entertaining that idea. It’s rather appealing. He can imagine Nagito holding him, maybe on a soft bed, just being together with no complications. The smile he’d had before, the goofy jokes, the lighthearted attitude, pretty face and a winning personality. The way he was meant to be. The way he had been before...

 

Hinata rejected the next part of that with his entire being. It carried a lot of grief and regret, neither of which he wanted to deal with anymore. So Hinata just sighed to himself, pulling the sheets closer under his chin, and imagined again Nagito smiling up at him, lips pressed together tightly. his hair a wavy mess, shirtless under a jacket, presumably on his way to visit him. Hinata’s hand holding his tightly, a husky voice so full of genuine concern and care, pouring it all into cheesy, throwaway words.

 

He let the whisper of those words help him close his eyes, wondering what it would be like to have him here, saying it to him over and over again.  

 

“... Sweet dreams.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My irl life is kicking my ass, and I havn't been working on this story- I've been focusing on 2 other- NEITHER OF WHICH ARE ON SCHEDULE TO BE FINISHED BY NANOWRIMO
> 
> ... In better news, VOLTRON SEASON FOUR TOMORROW AND A NEW SEASON OF BUZZFEED UNSOLVEEEEDDDDD


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little announcement.... I HAVE A SCENE KID AU STORY UP! I just uploaded chapter 2 of 5, it's Komahina and dorky and stupid, yet serious. Like this fic, but more comedic. If you're unfermiler with the Scene kid AU... check it out! It's really fun. It's called Every Planet We Reach Is Dead. Happy reading! Sorry this chapter is short, Nagito is hard to write... but please enjoy!

_ Dear Hinata, _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I'm writing you a brief note after you left yesterday. I'm not entirely sure how to say this in a manner you could possibly understand. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ It's becoming painfully obvious that my healing process has only slowed after my terminal cancers, dementia, most notably, have taken root. Have you forgotten? After my sanity was… compromised, I became largely unaware of myself. There are lots of loopholes and excuses, but I thought a fair warning was warranted, seeing as you told me that you intend on speaking to me more than required… something I don't quite understand. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I am no longer aware of what I feel. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ It has become very hard to discern what I do and do not desire, not that it should matter to you. My emotions don't matter whatsoever and I apologize now for any lies I will unknowingly tell or any mixed messages I may give. I'm trying my hardest but things get jumbled.  _ __   
  


_ Yours to the end, _ __   
  


_ Nagito _   
  


  
He turns on his side, leaning back in his bed reading it over again to himself.   
  
This is terrible. Your handwriting is atrocious. Hinata won't care, he doesn't want to see it. Why are you trying to send this? He'll only hate you more.

  
He tries again.

 

  
_Dear  Hinata,_ __  
  


 _I will try and make this brief,  but seeing as you're concerned with my whereabouts as of late I want you to know that I fluster easily around you,  and forgive me if I get confusing._ _  
_ _  
__Always yours,_ _  
_ _  
___Nagito

 

  
He looks at this version of the note.   
  
Too hasty, too fast… It's illegible. Self-centered, undesirable, disgusting. How hard could it be?   
  
He focused his gaze. He could do this… He had to.   
  


 

_ Dear Hinata, _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I know I'm not an easy person to talk to. I'm sorry if I'm confusing or conflicting at times. I really appreciate all you do for me… It would not be a stretch to say that I love you more than anyone. _ __   
  


_ Yours, _ _   
_ _   
_ __ Nagito

 

  
He groans. Something was still off about the short letter. He grinds it up under his palm absentmindedly as he considers it for maybe the fifth time- Hinata doesn't need to hear such useless things, from him no less. What a waste of his time.   
  
Nagito shoves the extra paper to the side and lets the pencil fall from between his steel fingers. He peers up at the drab ceiling.   
  
He supposed it would have had to go on unsaid. Just like everything else Nagito worked to keep him from knowing.   
  
Isn't that a sad reality? A reality full of despair? A time and place where the only thing you can't say is the one you need to say the most- maybe it's the one thing somebody needs to hear more than anything.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wug you guys. Time is an uphill battle for me right now, and I'm forgetting to update. Updates won't be consistent anymore, but they will be frequent!! I promise!! This chapter is a better length, and a heads up that the story will only update twice in November because of Nanowrimo

Hinata groans and casts his eyes at the door. Everybody had already left, and he is struggling to make his cup of tea last as he waits for Nagito. He needs some semblance of a reason for being there when he arrives. If he doesn't arrive soon, people will start coming back for lunch. Hinata can only assume that having remained there all morning would look awkward. It would also come with a lot of questions that he is not ready to answer yet.

 

It's not that he is ashamed about caring for Nagito so deeply, it is just that...

 

Well, he is, in fact, ashamed of it.

 

It shouldn’t matter at this point. Thanks to Sonia, half of the island is onto him at this point. But he still is not ready to admit it to himself.

 

Hinata takes a sip of tea and immediately regrets it as he eyes the bottom of his mug. He watches the liquid collect in the smooth surface of its depths.

 

Dwindling also was his flimsy excuse. He had already helped Teruteru clean the kitchen, bearing with his perverted antics. He'd cleaned everyone's dishes and had two cups of tea in his time spent waiting for Nagito. If he didn't know any better he'd say Nagito had skipped breakfast. But Hinata knows that Mikan would have his ass over an open flame before he ever successfully skipped a meal.

 

… Maybe she'd been busy this morning.

 

Hinata retrieves his flip phone from his pocket and checks his messages from Makoto.

 

[ You are the best.  no joke.  good night.]

 

[ good night <3]

 

Makoto usually texted him good morning, checking in if he had the time before he headed off to work. The absence of that message tells him that Makoto was already busy. Hinata figures, anyway, that his spare moments should be spent more with Kirigiri. She deserved it, for putting up with him.

 

“Are you sure he doesn't actually hate you? You’re only the most boring person here.”

 

Hinata brushes away the voice he knows all too well.

 

Still, he was running out his third cup of "excuse", and if Nagito were to walk in on him now, he'd know something was up for sure.

 

Speak of the devil. The door clatters open, and Nagito stands in the doorframe, gazing across the room. Holding the door open with his mechanical hand, he looks somewhat well-rested for once.

 

Hinata looks for something to blame his cuteness on.

 

“Hinata! Good morning. Looks like I'm rather lucky again today aren't I?”

 

… To blame it on his luck was the best scapegoat he'd get.

 

“Yeah, hey.” Hinata smiles in a way that hopefully conveys, "Yes, this was totally your luck. I came in for a cup of tea or three, and I have definitely left here between the crack of dawn and now. I haven't been waiting for you, it's pure coincidence- actually, it's just your luck."

 

Nagito doesn't bother to grab anything before sitting down across from Hinata. He adjusts himself, crosses his long legs by his ankles under the table. His arms fold over each other in front of him on the table. Nagito looks at Hinata as though he's waiting for him to say something profound.

 

“You look troubled,” is the only thing Hinata can think of to say. It ratchets up the level of danger by at least 50%. He needs to be careful in maneuvering. Instead of adopting that familiar deer-in-the-headlights look, Nagito shrugs. He looks to be handling it with the utmost elegance. All that can be attributed to a homicidal maniac with a weighty medical history and a twisted heart.

 

Of course, Nagito is "troubled".

 

“I'm perfectly fine, Hinata. It's silly of you to worry about somebody like me, and it can't be good for you, either.” 

 

Hinata feels the urge to reach out and hold his face in his hands and tell him that he loves him. He has a sneaking suspicion that it has already been tried and failed by somebody more qualified to do so.

 

“Damn you," He accidentally mutters. “I mean- Not you. Uh.”

 

He splutters- “Wait- Okay, geez, what I meant was-” He pretends to take a moment to think about what he was going to say. “Right- Hey, Nagito, are you doing anything else today? I know we talked last night, but, uh…”

 

Nagito, who had been studying his metal hand and playing with the joints with his other hand, looks up.

 

“I have counseling a little later, but I'm free all morning. Can I help with something?”

 

The image of Nagito begging to be of service is doing weird things to Hinata's heart.

 

And his di-

 

“Uh!” He recovers, for nobody but himself. “Actually, I was going to go on a walk on the beach… Want to come?”

 

This is going even less smoothly than he had anticipated. With Nagito around he can never just drink tea or meet up with him out of pure coincidence. He can never just ask if he wants to go on a walk along the beach where they first met to reminisce. Where they might turn to each other, embracing and kissing like the carefree teenagers they are...

 

“I would love to hang out!" Nagito says. "If it's not a bother."

 

Hinata sits with his one arm crossed in front of him and his head in his hand. He realizes the lull in the conversation has him stumped about what else he should say. He'd counted on Nagito rejecting his invitation. When he'd jumped right on without Hinata having to scold or encourage him, there had been a cleft in his plans. Looking down before coming to a dawning realization- “Hey, do you want me to make you something to eat?” 

 

Nagito shakes his head. “I already ate. Thank you, though."

 

Hinata knows for a fact that this is absolute bullshit. He realizes also that calling him out on it would only make Nagito feel worse. There are better ways to handle things. The way Nagito had flinched at the question concerns Hinata.

 

Maybe he didn't like lying as much as Hinata thought he did- but it's a long shot.

 

“You should eat," He says.

 

“I just said I had,” Nagito insists.

 

“But we'll be out for a while. It'd be good to eat a little extra before we go. It'll put me at ease-" When Nagito still doesn't look as though he's taken the bait, Hinata adds: "And what about Mikan?”

 

Nagito lets a phrase of laughter escape him, one that Hinata hadn't been mentally prepared for. It was so harmless and cute- it made Hinata’s throat and chest grow warm and bubbly. That power was horrific in the hands of someone who rarely abused it.

 

“Tsumiki would tell me off for skipping a meal," He agrees, smiling down at the table. Hinata feels his heart crashing against his ribcage. A bolt of panic as Nagito stands-

 

“Would you like a bagel, while I'm up? Or some tea?” Nagito offers. 

 

Hinata would feel like a hypocrite if he didn’t take something from him, so he accepts. “Tea does sound good, thanks. I already had lunch.”

 

It was a lie, but he knows for a fact that Nagito can’t testify against him, the same way Hinata can't against Nagito’s lack of breakfast. Besides, Hinata is not the one who needs it. It’s not the worst lie he’s ever told, either. Seeing as Nagito had been getting so close to him, he doubts he'd be able to eat much anyway. 

 

Nagito departs, leaving Hinata to simmer in his own thoughts. Hinata watches as he flicks on the stove, a kettle already waiting with water. He kneels down by the cupboard and reaches into the back with his prosthetic hand. He stares, transfixed, at the whirring, miracle machine that hadn’t yet been in use long enough to feel natural. But it was far better than the alternative. If Hinata was forced to look at Nagito’s hand, her hand every day…

 

For Hinata, trapped between his stagnant horror and growing affection, he couldn't say how it would make him feel. Izuru would complain of boredom, though. That much was certain. Hinata didn’t even notice that he was staring at his hand until Nagito stopped halfway through spreading cream cheese to whip around, looking confused. His suspicions were proved founded as their eyes met. His cover blown, Hinata glances away, staring far too hard at the window as warmth creeps over his face.

 

'Because all people stare at their friends so hard they feel it,' Hinata grumbles internally. 'Great.'

 

He could've sworn he saw Nagito smile at him as he gives a slight shake of his head and turns back around. A slight grin peeks out from the visible side of his face as he spreads cream cheese over the toasted bagel.

 

Even with Nagito aware of it, Hinata resumes looking at him from behind. Indulgence.

 

Once the knife had found a home in the basin of the sink with a clatter, Nagito turns to him and smiles. “I don’t mind eating while we walk, Hinata. If you want to leave now, let’s do that.”

 

Hinata thinks that sitting there, watching Nagito eat was a far more tempting option. He has to beat a part of his inner urges down.

 

“That’d be great,” He says. He looks around to collect his things, only to realize he doesn’t have anything on him besides his phone. The kettle pipes up from the stove, whistling pleasantly, and Nagito gets a paper cup and a lid from the cupboard. He plops an orange and ginseng tea bag into the cup from a box next to the paper cup lids. He takes the kettle and pours boiling water into the cup.

 

Hinata looks up at him. “That’s my favorite kind, actually." 

 

Nagito shrugs, and replies, “I noticed it.”

 

Hinata watches as Nagito places the kettle down on the stove again and reaches back beside the tea bags. Hinata is halfway convinced that his voice died and wouldn’t work again for the rest of his life. Nagito procures two sugar packets and adds it to the cup, the way Hinata does every morning. Nagito puts a lid on the cup and swishes the contents in a circle. Hinata does the same every morning so he doesn’t dirty an extra spoon, and so he can leave the tea bag in to steep further…

 

Nagito hands him the cup with a gentle smile. 

 

“You really do notice everything, don’t you?” Hinata says weakly, as Nagito grabs the bagel off the counter, and takes a bite. 

 

“Not really… I’m not that attentive about everything. Just the important things.”

 

Hinata’s heart blinks out of existence.

 

_____

 

“I’m so sorry that you have to bother with me this often, Hinata. If you want to go about your day and leave me now, you’re welcome to. I wouldn’t mind one bit,” is the first thing out of Nagito’s mouth. They haven't even got off the restaurant steps.

 

Respite impossible- moving onwards, it is a miserable omen for the rest of the day.

 

“If you want me to be here, it's fine. But you don't have to talk to me, either, if you don't want to."

 

Hinata doesn’t even give Nagito an answer for a moment. He bites down on his lip, peeling skin under his teeth. He takes a moment to gauge exactly how careful he has to be in approaching this conversation. Maybe he was better off staring dreamily at Nagito while he ate in the restaurant.

 

Rather than elaborating, Nagito stares back at him. His steps fall in time with Hinata's as they walk around the pool's edge. His frizzy hair and soft smile bounce along. They contradict the walls of self-hatred that fell from his mouth. It's off-putting, but more than anything, it's frustrating. 

 

Hinata wants to start telling Nagito off immediately, but he doesn’t want to take the bait, either. In other words, he wants to do the impossible.

 

“Nagito…” He begins. “Look, could you please do something for me?”

 

Nagito glances at Hinata. “Of course, Hinata! I would do anything for you.”

 

'Oh, anything?' Hinata wishes he had the courage to abuse that power. "I was thinking, it really makes me sad and uncomfortable when you degrade yourself like that. So, you know, maybe cut back on that a little?”

 

“Do you think this will work?” Izuru asks, whispering in his mind. "Of all things?"

 

“Go away.”

 

Nagito’s steps seem to slow as if he’s walking through honey.

 

“Hinata, you can't possibly be telling me to not address all that I’ve done?”

 

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

 

Nagito’s eyes flick up to meet his in a permanent rest stop, and Hinata thinks he might see a touch of discomfort in his eyes. Hinata wonders if it was because of the conversation, or because of his own eye. Nagito seems more adjusted to the piece of Kamukura that Hinata holds onto than the others. It's more than likely due to the conversation that Nagito looks so trapped.

 

“Nagito…I can’t fix you. I don’t know how to help you or make all that buried suffering disappear. I can try, and so can everyone else, but the only person who is in any position to fix you, is you. I think you need to actually try to be happy. You should think about it, at least… It seems like you don’t want to heal. But this is how I'm going to help you, whether you see it as helpful or not," Hinata looks intent. "You're not allowed to put yourself down when you're with me."

 

"Do you think that’s what he needs to hear? Do you not understand him at all? You’re telling me that you’ve fallen in love with a man you don’t even understand?"

 

“I told you to leave. I don’t need you.”

 

They stop before the gate of the hotel. Nagito looks shaken already. It was as though Hinata had picked him up and shuffled him like a deck of cards before forcing him back into reality. “Hinata, please don’t-”

 

“You said anything, Nagito,” He retorts before the argument even began. 

 

Nagito looks down at his feet in defeat. He opens the door, holding it for Hinata before following him. “So I did…” He follows him out into the sandy road. He blinks at the relentless heat wave that clawed at the island’s surface. It was enough to choke on.

 

“So will you do it for me?” 

 

Naito looks upset. “I would rather do anything else.”

 

“No take-backs. You need to do this for me, or- I swear I’ll…” Hinata has nothing to say by the end of his sentence. 

 

“Or you’ll what?”

 

Hinata feels his whole face go red. “Or I’ll… I’ll be very upset. That’s what. I’ll leave the island with Naegi and I’ll never come back.”

 

“It’s what I deserve.”

 

“Promise me, Nagito!” 

 

He’s so over it.

 

Nagito skips a few steps forward to catch up with Hinata’s frustrated pace. “I suppose I’ve obeyed worse orders.” He admits. “Okay. I promise.”

 

“Wait- what orders?” 

 

“A boring, pointless story.” Nagito shrugs. “Best not to worry about it.”

 

Hinata hums and tucks it in the back of his mind. He’d ask another day, when Nagito was in a better mood, and not as stressed out as he was now. Picking his fights isn't something he's very wise about, but he decides not to chase this one.

 

He takes a moment, instead, to breathe. He scans the shoreline, as the waves lapped onto its edge. He glances back at Nagito’s hand, wondering what might happen if he were to reach out and grab it the way he wants to.

 

Instead, he takes a deep breath and tries not to look awkward. “Thanks for agreeing… I thought that would be way harder than it... Well, you know, than it was.”

 

“I still don’t quite understand why you would want to help me in any way shape or form…” Nagito comments. “After all the terrible things I did to you all. I deserve to die."

 

“Strike one,” Hinata says. “Saying you want to die is off limits.” 

 

“Hinata, I must apologize... This might take some time. Please forgive me.”

 

“Nagito, what you did wasn't your fault and you know it,”  Hinata says. He averts Nagito’s apology, which sounds nothing like an apology from a friend. It sounds more like a plea for mercy from a slave to his master. "You might be the only one who does know that."

 

“Hinata, I respect you but you haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about.”

 

He feels the palm of his hand brush cool steel. Before he's realized it, his fingers are fastened around Nagito’s. He grips his hand. He stops moving, raises his voice- intent on letting loose.

 

“Nagito, you can't go around using our misinterpretations of you to hurt yourself! I know you had dementia, and you didn't ask for help with anything until a few weeks ago. You didn't kill anybody but yourself by your own hand. Everything else you did, you refused to ask for help with. And now you're avoiding help again- Stop using us to hurt yourself!” 

 

“You can’t even verbalize the issues you have the right way. Your attempt at communication is so poor. It's pathetic. Why won’t you let me take over?” 

 

Izuru is itching.

 

Hinata holds their hands up a little higher. Nagito stares at it, stares at where they're connected. Hinata determines he’s six feet deep already in the hole he’s dug for himself regardless. What's a little more? They stand in the middle of the road. Hinata’s other hand joins his first as he gazes desperately at Nagito. “There are better things to do than sitting around, hating yourself for things you can’t change. It’s something that we can work on together.”

 

“And maybe you’re wrong.” 

 

Nagito’s voice sounds ragged. “Maybe you’re wrong, and I can’t. Because I tried and I failed, and I tried again. I can’t do anything right. Why waste my time and energy trying to do something that has always been doomed to fail?!”

 

All that greets his words are the breeze that hangs between the treetops. Their faces are dappled in shadow.

 

Hinata can’t find the words to combat that. The idea of Nagito so readily admitting to having given up hits him like a plane crash. 

 

Nagito seems to register the panic and loss that forces Hinata to succumb to at the words. 

 

“Hinata, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at all- I forgot my place. It was completely uncalled for- do you want me to leave?”

 

“Nagito, hold on,” He says, trying to keep his tone even. “Please… Finish what you were going to say.”

 

“Hinata, I shouldn’t even dare-”

 

“Finish the thought Nagito.”

 

Nagito bites his lip, and Hinata watches his lips become an even paler color in the strain of it. “I’m no longer sure I can even harm myself sufficiently. To atone… for all I’ve done.”

 

There’s a shame in it. Hinata is sure that the thought must be devastating to him. 

 

Hinata is still clasping the metal hand, feeling the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. He feels Nagito begin to reciprocate the grip. 

 

“I can’t… speak for everybody,” Hinata admits, because this actually seems like it’s going somewhere. They're addressing something, at least. “But you can believe me when I say I want to help- I just… I don’t understand how I can. That’s the hard part. I have a goal. You know me, I always do. But I don’t know how I’m going to get there.”

 

“You want to help," Nagito says, swallowing.

 

"I do,” He assures him, trying to keep the doubt out of his voice.

 

“For all that I’ve done, I don’t know why you would ever…” His voice struggles to come out as he stares at their entwined hands. “I don’t know why you would…”

 

Hinata can’t find the words. Nagito stares down, metal fingers twitching between Hinata's hands. Hinata's brain is fried at this point. They are holding hands in the middle of the road, facing one another. The fact that Nagito has such an intense reaction to it- it kills him. Hinata feels almost safe as he closed the gap between them.

 

He isn’t sure if it is part of Kamakura's influence, or of his own volition that he gives into. Though it is too late to change his course, as Hinata lets go of Nagito’s hand, and instead envelops him in a hug.

 

Hinata holds Nagito as close as he can. His face is red, their chests are brushing, and he can’t even think through his own words before he’s saying them. “Have hope.”

 

In the beating sun, his arms clasp around Nagito’s waist, cheek to the side, pulling him in. Tighter- warmer. 

 

He feels Nagito stiffen, and as he lets his head rest on Nagito’s shoulder, hair tickling his cheek. He feels vaguely warm. Only warm, even when under the blaring heat wave and stifling jacket. Nagito’s hands press against his upper back. It feels more instinctual than accepting, but it's okay.

 

Hinata tries to slow the anxious chatter in his mind and the nervous churning in his stomach.

 

He is holding… Nagito Komeada.

 

HIs mind pulls a 180 in record time. He practically throws Nagito out of his arms, not in any attempt to be rude or forceful. It is out of pure panic that he steps away. He hopes Nagito could tell as much.

 

Nagito stumbles back on shaky legs and the first thing Hinata does is grab him by the shoulders to keep him steady. Hinata feels risk pumping through his veins. Everything else disappears. Nagito had been in his arms, then not, and he was now being held up by him. He is so close.

 

“I’m so sorry, that- that was weird. Calm down…” 

 

The ‘calm down’ remark is more directed at himself than Nagito. They both could stand to hear it, though. Hinata struggles to come up with a coherent sentence to defend himself. Nagito seems to beat him to the chase in that regard.

 

“I’m so lucky to have you.”

 

He whispers it so lightly that Hinata barely hears it. Like a prayer to some god he wasn’t familiar with, it is reverent and quiet. 

 

Hinata stops again. The entire conversation was just- wild. Like hoping for your favorite TV show to do something, and then it happens. It was what Hinata had wanted Nagito to have all along. 

 

“You don’t understand. This fixes nothing," Izuru says. “I can help you. You need to let me.”

 

“I don’t need you.”

 

“Nagito?”

 

“Oh! I’m sorry, Hinata!” Nagito explains, his hands raising over his own chest and hovering there anxiously. Hinata hadn’t noticed that he was still holding onto his shoulders, and he hastily pulls his hands away.

 

“For you to attempt to care so much and- for- for you to go so far… embracing me to show it. I never deserved this. It’s breathtaking. Thank you.”

 

Hinata sits with that. 

 

'Thank you' did sound better than 'I’m sorry'.

 

“By the way, Nagito,” Hinata sighs, forcing his hands to drop. “You are not responsible for my outburst yesterday. I’d like for you to believe me on that one."

 

“I beg your pardon?” Nagito looks generally confused as he sheepishly turns, and starts to walk again. Hinata jumps to follow him again, to leave the embarrassment behind him. “Hinata, the only reason that entire thing happened was because of me. The consequence was you asking me to take my leave. What else could it have been?”

 

Hinata blinks, and can almost hear Kamakura scoff. He wishes Chiaki were there to give him advice, instead.

 

“I’m right fucking here," Izuru reminds him. “I hate you, too, you goddamn self-insert.”

 

Hinata notes that this next sentence is abstract before even saying it. He settles with the average and uneasy answer of, “It wasn’t you. I was getting fired up over... nothing. You were just the tipping point. It was totally on me for taking it out on you.”

 

He frowns. “It’s not just 'nothing'… it obviously had something to do with what I said.”

 

“Nagito, it wasn’t!” Hinata protests. “I don’t know how to prove that to you, but-!”

 

“You can’t,” Nagito says. “Hinata, what if I already know that all this kindness from you is probably for some ulterior motive?”

 

Hinata wants to go on another tangent- Only he realizes it’s wasted air. He had been lying. It had been something Nagito said. 

  
“What do you want from from me, Hinata?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fun thing though, was I cosplayed toko fukawa!!! My writer bb!!!
> 
> https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IAE_JGeU6UQ/WfNxzb7L-VI/AAAAAAAADIA/V9elGFEAHD8-PeLyTCw3u3bZ_-Z2QBbZQCL0BGAYYCw/h2048/635064058957797166%253Faccount_id%253D2


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry It's been a while! THis story isn't dead I swear! It's national novel writing month though, so carving out the time is hard, and it slips my mind a whole bunch between all the other amazing projects im trying to complete. and... make half decent. So here you go! Very late and reviving this deadbeat horse! Chapter seven

They resumed their walk as though it had never happened.

 

Hinata spoke with trepidation. Besides the fact that he couldn't relax throughout it, the talk was refreshing.

 

They’d found a little tide pool that Hinata had dipped his toes into while Nagito sat beside him. That had been fun, too. The previous conversation was timidly stoked. Together, they recollected the first day in the program. Nagito, almost obsessively aware of Hinata's earlier proposal, wouldn't speak about himself. It reminded Hinata of the phrase, "If you have nothing nice to say, don't speak." He paid close attention to Nagito's lack of input regarding himself after that.

 

Hinata did notice that they avoided the words ‘program’ and ‘before’.

 

Kamakura kept feeding input into Hinata’s mind, none of which was utilized.

 

Hinata wondered if Mikan would call for Izuru that day. He'd like to walk Nagito to therapy. Mikan had asked for his opinion on things before. Hinata hates handing himself over, but he supposes it is for Nagito's sake. It makes him nervous to have Kamakura speaking through his mouth and not him. The things he might- could- say.

 

“Healing comes in small, repetitive habits,” Hinata recalls him telling Mikan this once.

He knows that somewhere in the conversation with Nagito Hinata had even admitted that he was glad that Nagito stayed behind to wake him up on that first day.

 

“You were the one who really woke me up in the end,” Nagito reminded him.

 

Hinata could still feel his heart hammering away as he remembered it.

 

Hinata now stands alone in the lobby of the hospital with a heavy coat draped over his arms.

 

“How does he stand this all the time?”

 

“He is sickly," Says Kamakura in his mind. “It leaves him exposed to any number of complications. On a tropical island, all he gets is cold, but his malnutrition puts him at even greater risk of developing extreme conditions. It protects his skin from the sun."

 

“Wow," Hinata deadpanned, rolling his eyes to nobody but himself.

 

“You want to try the jacket on,” Kamakura says. “Seeing you try to deal with how you feel in the midst of his psychotic tendencies was one of the more interesting things to happen.”

 

"Hmm."

 

“I tried to shoot your boyfriend.”

 

Hinata will probably snap soon in the middle of the hospital lobby. “For the record, I’m still pissed you almost killed him. Now shut up and go away!”

 

Kamukura sounded disappointed. “There’s nothing I can do to help you?”

 

“You won’t be helping me. Leave.”

 

“So you can try it on?”

 

“What? No! Look, I don’t- I don’t like him!”

 

“You are not a good liar."

 

"Yeah," Hinata sighs. "Maybe."

 

But he relented and started marching towards the room. Mikan and Nagito were there, presumably having a therapy session. He was hoping he could barge in with some semblance of grace and return Nagito’s forgotten jacket. Nagito had left it at the tide pool by mistake, and Hinata had only realized by the time he was walking back to his cottage after taking Nagito to Mikan’s office. He regretted having to give it back so soon though, in a way. Nagito, while frighteningly thin, looked great in nothing but his shirt, bony shoulder blades, deep-set collarbone, long, thin arms…

 

“I’m still here. And he is not good-looking by any standard."

 

“No. He’s cute,” Hinata informs him. “Besides, this is my life, not yours. You’re just along for the ride- you've already lived a lifetime.”

 

“Unfortunately,” Kamakura admitted. “Your shallow romance is tedious and boring."

 

“I thought I told you to go away.”

 

At long last, Kamakura took his leave. A pressure he hadn't recognized before lifted.

 

His steps were more soft thumps against the floor as he tapped his foot nervously.

 

He wondered if he could get away with a bit of eavesdropping.

 

He's sure it wouldn’t be entirely riveting, but now he was curious. Practically everybody was in therapy with Mikan, and the few that refused clung closely to the people they thought they’d lost for sure, even after all this time. As though it was all still somehow a dream. Maybe they would blink one day and everything would be gone again.

 

Nagito had more sessions than Hinata did, and, for the most part, everyone else, too. Mikan’s dedication and knowledge seemed to help him put things into place, and it helped Hinata as well to hear answers he could trust from someone other than Kamakura.

 

Mikan was intent on keeping together her client privacy policy. It was hard to keep secrets on an island of fifteen people, but Mikan worked hard to keep things stored away and to her eyes only. Though with Nagito claiming such frequent visits, and Hinata still unable to land any tips from Mikan on how to help Nagito, maybe some eavesdropping was for the best. Realistically, Kamakura had offered on multiple occasions to give him all the answers. But this was something Hinata had to do for himself. He had to believe that it was for a good cause.

Maybe he just wanted to confirm that Nagito really was in safe hands.

 

He opened the door to the hallway and walked quietly to the back hospital bed, which Mikan had cleared out to use and an office. He appreciated that Kamakura had tucked himself away to a resting corner of his consciousness, and hoped he wouldn’t reemerge.

 

He huffed, clutching Nagito’s jacket close to his chest. He had a reason to be here, at least.

Hinata suddenly became viscerally aware of how much he wanted to try it on.

 

A pause.

 

Huffing in distaste for nobody but himself, Hinata guiltily unfolded it with careful hands, inspecting it momentarily, before turning it around. Sliding his arms in, he felt a burning warmth in his cheeks, but fuck it- he was this far now. Once he had his arms in it, he tugged down on the folding hood lightly, to adjust it and looked down at himself. It was a little big on him, sleeves outliving his arm length unless he tucked them back. He liked the feeling of the trail brushing against the back of his knees, how long it was. The heavy fabric made him feel more secure. Kamakura was right.

 

Nagito's coat smells like him. It was a fragrance of rain and small flowers, and maybe some mint, like the tea he had every morning and night. Hinata thought he could smell a bit of smoke in the jacket as well but he might just be imagining things. In face of the disgust he felt towards himself, he smiled.

 

He frowned as something sparked in the back of his mind.

 

“How surprising.”

“Fuck off!” Hinata hissed. “I thought you were gone!”

 

“I thought you might like help listening in.”

 

“I told you to fuck off.”

 

"Fine. My overwhelming expertise and I shall take our leave.”

 

“Fine by me,” Hinata grumbled. “I’ll ask later if I actually need anything.”

 

And with a twinge of what almost feels like emotion from Kamakura, he’s gone once more.

 

Hinata sighed, taking off the jacket. He really is disgusting. He closes his eyes for a moment. Trying to visualize Nagito in his arms in its place. It couldn't quite materialize, and after his pause, he approached Mikan’s office.

 

He considers himself lucky that there are no cliche creaking floorboards to give him away, and he holds his breath. He can make out hushed voices on the other side of the door. He leans downward, presses his ear to the part of the door below the handle.

 

“... but from what you’re telling me, I think Hinata has the right idea. It’s a common spiral. You see bad things, think bad things, say bad things, and eventually, it feels like it’s justified. Other may rush to help, but it doesn’t matter because you’re in too deep at that point. The cycle continues to grow until there’s nobody you can remotely trust and you loathe yourself so much you think you’d rather be dead. Am I getting this?”

 

“Yeah…” He hears Nagito huff. “But why would he bother to help me? Like you said, I’m in so deep at this point that I’ve started acting in a way to convince others to hate me in the same way I do. I want them all to want me dead. I need to suffer because it’s what I deserve. So why does he still stick around?”

 

“I think he can see through it,” Mikan says. “But we can’t know for sure until we really break that spiral. I know it sounds impossible, but I’ve seen you do some amazing things this far. So even if this is a little harder, it's something you need to accomplish. It's the root of our problem, and I'm glad you're able to analyze and accept that part of yourself. But the next part is recovery, and overcoming that base issue. You have all these great people here to help you. Hinata would love to help, but it’s up to you to choose to do that. I know it seems selfish and undeserved, but you have to choose to work towards that happy ending, right?”

 

Nagito is just quiet, and neither speaks for a bit. Hinata holds his breath in fear of being heard. He imagines the looks on their faces right now. He can't pinpoint which Nagito might have.

 

“If you ever need any more help, you might want to ask Hinata. He knows more about this than I ever could. He really is the super genius, here, but-”

 

“That’s Izuru,” Nagito aggressively corrects her. “Not Hinata.”

 

Mikan says nothing for a moment. “... Of course.”

 

“Well, Hinata is helping in a very smart way. Really. I’m so happy you two like one another so much, the company will help you put everything into place.”

 

“You think… Hinata actually likes me?” Nagito asks, and it sounds like he’s suddenly strangled.

 

“Of course! It sure sounds like he does. You need to have a little faith in him. Like I said, choose to pursue that happy ending. You're speaking from the spiral. Hinata clearly wants to bond with you.”

 

'Great,' Hinata thinks. 'I guess everyone knows.'

 

“Tsumiki, how could Hinata possibly be-”

 

“Nagito." It is the loudest, sternest voice Hinata has ever heard on the island. He actually jumps. "We just went over this. You aren't allowed to say those things around me or Hinata anymore.”

 

He hears the office plunge into silence. Forget his breathing- they might hear his heartbeat from outside.

 

He decides it is because the yelling is all she really can do to keep him in line, to scare him into submission. Her sacrifice was admirable. Nagito, whom Hinata is sure is thoroughly humiliated and probably on the verge of tears, shakes off the silence.

 

“I’m sorry. I disobeyed again. This is such a waste of your time- I should go!”

 

Shit.

 

Hinata immediately springs into a composed stance, eyes alert, hammering on the door, desperately trying to sell the ‘I swear I just got here’ vibe.

 

The door opened before him, and he was greeted by a trembling, uncharacteristically distressed Nagito. The only other time he’d ever seen him like this was back in the program when Hinata accused him of being close to the lamp’s power cord.

 

But his eyes were fierce and his fists were clenched as he stood over Hinata. It was actually a little hot, in a slightly distressing way.

 

Nagito seemed even more taken aback by the revelation that Hinata was standing before him, face to face, holding his jacket in front of him.

 

“Hinata! Oh, I didn’t see you there. Why are- I mean, what are you doing here?” He asked as if the coat in his arms wasn’t obvious enough.

 

“Oh- yeah! Hey, uh... You forgot- your thing,” He said, groping for words. “Jacket! You forgot your jacket.”

 

“And you came all this way to give it to me?”

 

“Uh- yeah! Sure did, I’m here to give it to you…”

 

“Hinata.” Nagito’s fearful expression goes soft. “You’re so kind to me to think of doing that. Thank you… Er- not to say anything bad about myself. But I really-”

 

MIkan glared at him from behind.

 

“Never mind. Thank you, Hinata.”

 

He felt the weight of the heavy coat leave his arms, and he decided that he didn’t care as much about handing over the coat.

 

Nagito had said it again.

 

“Yeah- of course.” God, he was so weak for the way Nagito kept repeating his name. He was positive his knees would buckle out of existence sooner or later. “Anytime. Where are you headed?”

 

Nagito rolled his eyes upward. “Well, nowhere in particular.”

 

Hinata took note that Nagito was not, in any way shape or form lying when he said that. Something in Kamakura told him so. It didn’t quite matter, but it felt like Kamakura was trying to comfort him in some way, letting him know that Nagito wouldn’t deceive him now, at the very least.

 

“Really?” He probed curiously. “Well, if that’s the case, then maybe you’d like to hang out later tonight? I had lots of fun this morning… We could grab dinner, or-”

 

“Hinata- I’m so sorry,” He cuts him off. “I just- it’s too much. I’d love to, but I couldn’t possibly outstay my welcome- I’m a little overwhelmed-”

 

“Nagito!” Mikan almost growled from behind him.

 

He closed his eyes like he couldn’t believe himself. “I really would like some time to myself, as much as I would enjoy your company.”

 

Mikan huffed, before biting her lip, struggling to be so forceful, even for the good of her patient.

 

“Nagito will check back in with you at 9:30 tonight,” Mikan told him, looking at Nagito as if she expected a rebuttal, only one never came. “Nagito. Hinata's just concerned for you… right?”

 

“I-” Nagito’s voice wavered before something in his eyes clicked together. “I know he is.”

 

Mikan nodded approvingly, and Nagito whispered a quiet “goodbye” to Hinata as he slid past him, and stalked out of the hallway in a hurry to escape. His head tucked, and he slung his loose jacket over his shoulder.

 

Hinata's last image of him before he rounded the corner was of Nagito's retreating skinny jeans and loose T-shirt.

 

“Hinata?”

 

He cast away the image, turning to see Mikan looking rather panicked with Nagito gone.

 

“Sorry- what?”

 

“Hin-n-nata? Could I please, just… you kn-now, I don’t want to waste your time but c-could I have a quick word with y-y-you?”

 

“Yeah, ‘course,” He agreed, stepping inside the office. Mikan closed the door behind her but didn’t move to take a seat. They stood and stared at each other for a moment before Mikan finally could say something.

 

“Hinata, I-I just wanted t-t-to ask you something,” She said, and for her groundbreaking outburst a moment ago, she’d completely reverted into her stuttering and anxious stance.

 

“I would like y-you to not stand for s-self-put-downs from Nagito whatsoever. I h-heard you initiated this p-pr-process and I w-would like to p-p-perpetuate it in the office, as well... So now, consistency is our main concern. But- uh! There’s… s-something else.”

 

Hinata folded his arms. He knew what this entailed.

 

“You see, Nagito n-now needs to be protected emotionally as he t-tries to progress forward. I trust that Izuru t-t-told you about the model of self-deprecation, um... When you told him to stop the c-comments about himself...”

 

Hinata nodded emptily.

 

“Well, as we w-work to stop it, everything from before will still linger, and th-that wears away gradually... When we learn to lower our guard a b-bit at a time. And we are not hurt. However, until he’s totally relaxed again for a long period of time, a single bad experience could send him right back to square one and b-break him beyond repair. Just… do take caution, p-p-please?”

 

“Of course,” He promised. “I can do that.”

 

“Oh! And make sure he eats, too, when he is with you! I have a feeling he isn’t t-taking his antidepressants, and I can tell he’s not eating as m-m-much as he should be because of it. Help him get outside t-too, alright? A lack of vitamin D can lead to energy loss and a l-lot of other bad stuff. And- gosh, I’ve b-been talking so l-long! I’m so sorry!”

 

“Hey! No, no, it’s okay, Mikan, it really is! I promise that, too… You’ve done so much good for all of us here. I, uh, heard you raise your voice actually.”

 

“Oh!” She yelped, distressed. “Y-y-you heard that?! I feel so bad, y-yelling at him like that! I just- I know I c-can’t get him to listen otherwise! I have to- I know- I’m trying!”

 

“What you’re doing is really helpful. I have no idea where we'd be without you."

 

“Ah- I D-didn’t really do anything! Izuru did all the hard work, helping me remember-”

 

“Do you think Izuru would sit down to give therapy and counseling to the same 14 people day in and day out every day of the week?”

 

“W-well, Hinata, I think you're really something, too...”

 

'Not me though, right?' Hinata thought blankly.

 

“You are, too,” He said, as opposed to ripping his hair out in frustration. They smiled at each other, and Hinata glanced at the door behind her.

 

“Oh! Y-yes! You can go, sorry! I should’ve said!”

 

“No biggie.” He shrugged, waving a dismissive hand at her. “Thanks for everything.”

 

“Thank you, too, Hinata.”

 

Hinata reckons that the ‘thank you’ from Mikan sounded better than her ‘I’m sorry’ as well.

  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the very long delays you guys! I hope you have a great holiday season! My writing's slowing down because... I don't know. I'm feeling unmotivated and lazy. All the new projects I'm posting arn't getting recognition at all, and I'm pathetic in that way were I can't seem to validate myself. Either way- Here's chapter 8- at long last!

Hinata genuinely has no idea what he’s doing at this point in time. He’s stumbling away from the hospital, his mind muddled and confused.

He is deprived of everything. Robbed of sleep, food, a will to live- he craves. He sucks inward. 

Of course, when he could barely stand or care for himself, the first thing Hinata thinks to do is to ignore his needs as a human outright and venture forth to ask for emotional support from the biggest dickwad in the area.

It wasn’t hard to find Fuyuhiko, and Hinata decided that if anybody would give him a straight answer, it would be him. Hinata found himself knocking on his door before he knew it. His knuckles snapped along the wood sharply. 

“Who the hell is it?” His voice was as gruff as usual.

“It’s me, Hinata!” He called out. “Can I come in?”

“At your own risk!” Came a sour response, but Hinata knew he didn’t mean it. At this point, it was a sign of affection.

Fuyuhiko lounged in a nice armchair in the corner, polishing off a gun that he’d never use. It looked as clean as could be, but Hinata saw that Fuyuhiko was staring at it with intense focus.

“Have you ever considered picking up a hobby besides looking intimidating?”

“Have you ever tried to pick up a hobby that isn’t hitting on Nagito?”

"Fuck."

“And no. Why should I? Looking intimidating is useful.” Fuyuhiko let the rag in his hand slip off the gun's barrel as he looked up at Hinata. Hinata closes the door behind him sheepishly, and Fuyuhiko sets down the gun. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

“I needed somebody who can give me some straight answers,” Hinata admitted. “And I thought, hey, if I need somebody to be an honest dick, who better than the guy who playfully threatens to rip out everybody's throats?”

“I’m your man,” He admitted, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Peko helped me drag these in… take a seat. I have a gut feeling that I’m going to be here a while listening to you bitch and moan about things.”

“You’re probably right,” Hinata muttered with a husky chuckle, sitting into the embrace of the armchair.

“Well, fucking out with it, then!”

Hinata took a breath. He needed a good way to say this. Something light, but that addressed the issue…

“I’m in love with Nagito!” Hinata blurts out, face pink and his voice bold as he watches Fuyuhiko expression. Fuyuhiko knew, for sure, but to say he’s in love? Hinata surprises himself with his own stupidity most days.

In all of Fuyuhiko's expressionless calculation, Hinata feels that he's made a grave error.

“Your idiocy has broken the barriers of my comprehension and speech. You're fucked, by the way.”

“Hey!” Hinata protested- but he admits that it was a foolish way to go about this. “Nagito’s not that bad.”

Fuyuhiko pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers, looking at his shoes like he’s wondering why he’s even alive to have this conversation.

“Yeah…” He says eventually, not at all intimidating anymore, but now intensely disappointed. “Ding dong.”

“What?”

“Oh, why, Hinata!” Fuyuhiko sits up, looking sarcastically at him. “Get the door! It's your regrets and mistakes knocking!”

“This is who you wanted advice from?” Kamakura asks, awake for a brief moment only to cast his judgment.

"Yeah," Hinata says lamely.

___

Future foundation’s hallways had never felt so suffocating. He wasn’t sure if it was just his nerves, or because he’d never paid so much attention to anything outside of what he was doing. The hallways, he was convinced, were shrinking on him.

HIs palms were sweaty as he made his way towards Kyoko’s department. He especially tried to forget about the looks everybody was shooting him as he moved past them in the hall. He probably did look fairly foolish, carrying a bouquet of flowers and coffee down a hallway in a suit full of people trying to prevent the apocalypse. He’d passed Togami earlier, who shot him a smirk that was somehow even more condescending than usual, which was a fairly alarming notion in its own way.

Either way, he was determined to calm himself. This exchange would either be the best thing ever or something that he’d take to his grave. There was no middle ground. 

He knows that Kirigiri sometimes talked about “never moving forward unless you take risks”. Or, at least, he knows it with his brain. It is another matter entirely to convince his heart of that, and of the necessity of all this.

He tried thinking of his friends for support, but all that came to mind was Yasuhiro telling him, “Dude, you’ll never be the man your girlfriend is.”

He’d already gotten lost.

Twice on his way to a department he visited once a day, at least- he'd gotten lost. 

He looked down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand, wondering if he was right with any of this. Kyoko liked purple, right? A violet and white bouquet would be okay, then. Would it really be alright, with the yellow accents in there? He'd gone to all the trouble of asking the ultimate florist for help- what if she didn’t like it? What if she had some allergies that he wasn’t aware of- why hadn't he thought of any of that earlier?

He paces down the correct hallway this time, seeing the door to Kirigiri’s office in the distance. It's not too late, though, he tells himself, and he can always retreat to live another day.

“Hello, Makoto."

Makoto flinches. 

Before him stood, hunched and troubled, Munakata of all people. Holding his own cup of coffee, hair graying, grip clenching. “You look rather bothered- can I help you?”

'Help me?' He wants to ask. 'You’ve literally been to five funerals this week and you think I need help?'

But Munakata is trying- so hard- to atone for what he’s done. Makoto is amazed the guilt didn’t drive him crazy all over again. He really was a man of hope.

“Ah- No! Not at all, sir! I just- yes- I’m an idiot!” It tumbles out of his own mouth before it can really register in his head. He really wasn’t used to this kind of nerves. Not the fear attributed to his threatened survival, but the fear of being rejected. 

Munakata offers him a patient smile, like that of a strained father figure almost. “I assume that’s all for Kirigiri?” Makoto’s heart drops. He knows Munakata associates his relationship with Kirigiri to the one he once shared with Chisa Yukizome. It’s not something Makoto wants to be responsible for bringing up. 

“Y-yeah…”

“The flowers look stunning,” He admires, taking a sip of coffee. “What’s the occasion?”

Makoto eyes the door to her office and takes a solid three seconds to decide that he'd love to procrastinate his entrance with a nice chat with a fellow Ultimate Hope.

“We- well, I just confessed to her last night.”

Munakata almost gags on his coffee. The reaction reminds Makoto so much of Hinata's reaction it’s uncanny. “Wait- you hadn’t confessed before that point?” He asked, looking somewhat betrayed. 

“Yes! Yes- I know! I just… Kiri gets me so clumsy, and nervous, and it's... you know? I just..."

Munakata looks wise beyond his years. “That’s what having a crush is, dear boy- and you get self-conscious around a woman who has allegedly searched the undergarments of corpses on multiple accounts?” He asked. “Pick your battles, Naegi.”

“I guess I’m just concerned.”

“About what?”

“Kiri… she seems to feel the same way I do- but there’s something she’s not telling me. You said so yourself- she’s not… a very shy person. If she liked me- why hasn’t she told me?”

“Makoto, if you want to know something you have to be the one to ask.”

“What? Why me?”

“Ask her.” He repeated. “Women don’t get any easier to understand. Trust me. Kirigiri is a sound-minded person, if you have a question for her- it'd be best to just ask.”

Makoto flushed. “You think she’ll like the flowers?”

“They look beautiful,” He assures him, smiling tiredly.

Makoto sighed, staring at the floor. He has a churning feeling in his gut that Munakata is hoping for Makoto to live his legacy. It’s very kind of him- and even if Makoto forgives him, he still is on edge around him. Only time and rebuild trust can heal that. 

“I guess I should get this to her before the coffee gets cold,” He notes bashfully. “I got lost twice before finding her office.”

“Lost? But you come here every-”

“I know.”

Munakata shakes his head, tilts his face up and smiles. “Well, good luck. And congratulations. I’m happy for you.”

Makoto finds that he’s smiling back. “Have a great rest of the day, sir.”

Makoto hasn’t so much as taken two steps before Munakata's voice pierces the air. 

“Those were Chisa's favorite, you know.”

He turns around for a moment- seeing Munakata looking triumphant, satisfied, yet sad.

“The white roses.” He clarifies, pointing resignedly before returning his hand to the warmth of his coffee cup. “She loved them.”

___________

“This is a chicken McFucking train wreck you’ve gotten yourself into here, you know that?”

“I know- I know, I just… how do I even go around telling him? Is there any possibility he likes me at all?”

Meanwhile, Fuyuhiko massages his temples in utter disbelief. “I can't believe I’m having this conversation right now… Why am I here- gossiping like a little schoolgirl when… Jeez."

“... Well?” Hinata prompts.

“Hinata, you ever heard of the game ‘Lost’?”

“Yeah?”

“It describes your standards and my respect for you.”

“Oh, come on!” Hinata groans. Kamakura stirs a bit- informing Hinata that it was rather clever- like he couldn’t deduce that for himself.

“I mean, there’s a gun right here if you want to kill yourself right now.”

“If you don’t help me now, I’ll pay Peko a nice visit on your behalf.” He bargains, thinking fast.”

“Fine,” He snapped. This wasn’t the first time Hinata would do this.

“Honest opinion: You’re a complete dunce if you think Nagito is by any means a straight guy. Judging by the way he’s always talking about you- he isn’t letting his self-hate stop him from licking the ground you walk on. He would legit obey your every beck and call without hesitation- so I’m going to give you a big fat yes. He’s fuckin’ enamored with you.”

Hinata's heart jumped. “You really think so?!”

“I mean- he probably has the hots for both ‘you’ and the freak in you. Be careful with that guy- he’s seriously fuckin’ weird.”

“Whatever. Do you think… should I ask him out?”

“I mean, if you start making out with him- I’m sure he’ll get the play. And you’ll stop complaining to me, and you both won’t be so cripplingly lonely. You can go off and be two totally creepy gays somewhere where I don’t have to watch you.”

“I don’t want to- make out with him! Jeez!”

“You do realize I see you staring at his ass sometimes, right?”

Hinata almost gagged, feeling rather attacked all of the sudden. “I do not!”

“You’ve dug your own grave, man. And his grave, too.”

“What?”

“I mean- he’s kinda dead, right? Are you getting the Necro-feels?”

“I am not a necrophiliac!” Hinata protested. He feels as if he’s done this before.

“Look scrub, if you don’t want to lose all your fingers you should stop spacing out and leave,” Fuyuhiko grunted. “I got stuff to do.”

Concerned that Fuyuhiko might actually start dismembering him at this rate, Hinata scurried to make his exit.

“Hey,” Fuyuhiko said before he left, his voice laden with doubt. “I know it’s weird and if you tell another soul I said this I’ll put you through a trash compactor, but… You know… I guess I’m happy for you or something.”

Hinata let out a breath. “What?”

Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes, glaring at him. “I’m like, sorta satisfied you manned up a little bit. It’s cool. I’m not proud, I’m glad you're taking initiative.”

“Oh,” Hinata mumbled, settling into a small smile. “Thanks, dude, that means a lot.”

“Er- Whatever,” He growled, gripping the knot of his tie the way Hinata does when he’s nervous. “You know what? Forget I said anything.”

Hinata shot him a big smile as he opened the door, and took his leave.

Hinata took a flat huff of relief when he left Fuyuhiko’s cottage. At least he had somebody who understood.

But more importantly, Nagito liked him. 

It wasn’t a guarantee, but Hinata was bubbling with exhilaration at the hope. He had a chance, there was a possibility.

But… what if Fuyuhiko was just messing with him? Did he just want Hinata to make a fool of himself in front of Nagito?

What if it had been a complete lie?

Fuyuhiko had seemed happy for him, but how did he know that was really true? Was he just setting a time bomb and lying in wait for him to be that laughing stock?

Hinata was somewhat tempted to ask Kamakura if he knew anything about the ‘tells’ of a closeted guy affection. Only Kamakura probably wouldn’t tell him, because watching Hinata squirm would be way more interesting and entertaining. 

After he swore under his breath for a frustrated moment, trying to weigh wishful thinking to reality and probability, Hinata shook his head. He was supposed to check up with Naegi later, anyway. First, he should sit in the dining hall and at least pretend to eat something. Setting a good example and all that. 

He set off wondering if Nagito would ever really turn him down, and how. His refusal to spend time with him earlier wasn’t helping Hinata's imagination.

He was also a bit relieved that Nagito refused him. It told him that all the times he did accept he genuinely did want to be with him, and that thought gave Hinata a warmer feeling all around.

Nagito had turned him down, thanking him instead of apologizing.

It looked good on him, gratitude in place of grievances, feeling marginally better thinking about it. There was a certain spring in his step as he headed off. Belatedly, he pulled out his phone.

[ Hey! I’d love to talk when you have the time! Is Kiri okay? ]

_________

It’s only at the very worst times of his life could Makoto Naegi truly be at a loss for words.

Staring down a wide-eyes Kirigiri in her office chair below him, with the minimal sound of other workers shuffling papers around them, Makoto regrets what he thought earlier. 

The bouquet does look nice.

Makoto wonders if the searing warmth of his face looks as bad as it feels, as he hands it to her.

She’s just staring at it, and she hasn’t said a thing since he had entered as if some illusion of himself was the one handing her flowers. 

He realizes that it might be weird for two supposedly “close friends” to skip to “couples who surprise one another at work with flowers” But now he’s second-guessing himself, and it’s already too late for that.

“Kiri….” is the first thing he can find in himself to muster before the rest of the sentence dies on his tongue. You can say it… it’s just one sentence- you say sentences all the time, say it and It’ll be over with...

“I… really like you.”

She finally tears her eyes off of the flowers, and up to him, their eyes meeting for a moment. 

Finally, he feels a jerk of nervousness in his chest.

“I mean-! You! You already know that, but I thought I would- you know- show you? Because I love you? And- um!”

Face burning, gripping onto the flowers and the coffee even tighter than he already was, he tucks his head down in total embarrassment. “I didn’t mean…. I mean- Kiri, you- uh- you just, uh- you really meant a lot to me, and, um...”

She was about to say something, then evidently decided against it, biting her lip, before trying to speak again.

“Makoto… I can’t accept this from you.”

“Oh- Wait- what?”

“I can’t accept this.”

Makoto had never felt his heart twist and plummet down to his shoes in such a sickening way before. Everything was sour and ugly.

“What… what do you mean you can’t accept it?”

He can’t put this together.

“Kiri… oh god- no- I’m so sorry-” He’d read this all wrong. “Do you not… not feel the same?”

The words were uneven. And already he could feel crybaby tears outline in eyes. It's no big deal. It’s totally cool.

“Makoto…” She almost whimpered, it was so rare for her to express so much like that. He thinks it’s the most fearful she’s ever sounded in her life.

“No, no.” He muttered, feeling the crushing doubt of rejection. Seeing and living in that moment, wondering vaguely if this was really happening. “I got this all wrong- you just want to stay friends… huh…?”

“Makoto… that’s not it at all.” She said, somewhat resigned. “I do- I do you know… feel you’re special to me… but I- we can’t have this.”

“I… don’t know what you’re saying?” He admitted. “Do you… like me or not? I can take it.”

He’s scared at how smoothly the lie came out of him. He wasn’t sure he could, honestly, take it.

The wording was far more heavy-handed than he would like, but he tried to swallow that down as he I hurt anxiously, his knuckles begging for the release of the pressure with which he clenched them around the flowers.

“It doesn't matter.”

“What? How can you say that?!” He begged. “Kiri, I'm helpless- please just give me a straight answer!”

Mentioning the helpless thing aloud really didn't help the illusion of composure he was trying so desperately to convey. It was so honest it personally pained him to say, but it's not like he held any dignity over Kirigiri to begin with anyway. 

“Makoto…” The sound is soft.

And all his words fell to the floor the moment they emerged, it was as if he'd been thrown into a cool fire or somebody put Him under a week Vice, collapsing, as a fuzzy static wrung from his rib cage up words.

“I get it.”

The catch is that he doesn't.

“Makoto I love you.”

He’d been studying the floor so intensely that he hadn’t realized Kirigiri pulling off her gloves until he felt a strangely bloated set of fingers rest lightly over his own, pushing the bouquet into his own hands, righting its angle. It’s an effective way to get Makoto’s dumbfounded attention.

“I do love you- but it’s not that simple.”

Makoto sighed, not knowing what could possibly be tangling up the smartest person he knew. “What’s not so simple?” He wanted to scream from the rooftops. It could be that simple. It should be that simple. Only Kirigiri would set him on this sickening emotional amusement park attraction.

“You can’t be my partner. You’d hate it. Hate it, I assure you. I couldn’t put you through that. No matter what.”

It was like she was commanding him to obey her.

“... Wait, what."

Her second hand, still gloved, joined the other, placed over Makoto’s. He could see her nibbling the inside of her cheek in loss and frustration.

“Are you doubting me? That I’d get in your way? That I don’t totally already love you? Kiri, you know I would give up anything in a heartbeat for you! We went over that! You mean more to me than anything in the world."

She deflated. “I know… I know I do…”

“Do you, really?" He is so desperate. He can hear it in his voice, and it just breaks him down even more. "I've died for you."

The moment he sees a tear rolling down her cheek is another red flag to Makoto that he’s fucking this up pretty thoroughly.

There’s nothing in his lungs as he places the flowers down onto the desk beside the coffee. He kneels down, on one knee before her, just so that they’re on eye level, her sitting and all, and holds her ungloved hand carefully in his own.

“Makoto,” She forces out mechanically. She takes her covered hand away from the outside of his to wipe her eyes, looking down on him with a real concern there. “Makoto… I’m asexual.”

Makoto was still wiping away tears of his own on his shoulders. “A… Sexual?”

“Makoto- I’ll never make you happy.”

“Why the hell not?! Kiri…. You’re beautiful! I really do, you know… love you? I know that sounds weird but…”

“I’m asexual.” She repeats listlessly. 

“So what?!” He begs. “I respect that! Any boundaries you have- I don’t care! I would sacrifice anything- I love you!” He knows he’s said it eight times already, but it doesn’t feel any less important. Those were weighty words, but Makoto had the emotions to back it up. "I don't- it doesn't matter!"

She looked disbelieving “You don’t care?”

“Why would I? You lay any boundaries you need- I just… want you to know how much you mean to me.”

And, just because he can, he gently takes her blackened hand, steadies his nerves, raises it to his lips and kisses the back of it. Seeing no reaction or comment telling him that was over the line, just a shocked expression and the hint of a bewildered smile- he starts kissing every individual knuckle, face aflame, trying his best not to shy away from eye contact. The skin was raw under his lips, and after he finished he realized he wanted to recreate that again someday. She didn’t need to hide her hands from him, she didn’t need to hide anything from him ever again.

“Makoto…” She whispered, finally. He remained kneeling, and there was no follow-up to her words, she had simply said his name.

Maybe that was all she needed to say.


	9. UPDATE GOOD NEWS

SO FLATTERED OF ALL THE FEEDBACK! YOU GUYS ARE SO KIND!

RIght now, my schedule to finish old and add 1 new work is as follows:

1\. Finish ABC EMotions of Shane Madej.  
I’m not interested in Buzzfeed unsolved anymore Just fell out of it, so I’m looking to get it out of the way first. Especially for a few hours and it’s fully done.

2\. I’m coming out with a fully written one-shot…   
IT'S ONLY LIKE 60 PAGES but I still have fun writing it.   
A fully mute!Red namelessshipping fic called Meteor Shower. I just need to edit it.

3\. Finishing up Every Planet we reach is dead. There are just 2 chapters left, and If I’m going to finish them all, might knock it out. Besides, I’ve lost all my plans for it, and I only vaguely know the final part, some planning and plotting is needed. 

4\. Finishing Hope overnight.  
I want to finish all these stories for good before I write anything else, and I know that the most people wanted me to continue Hope Overnight. The reason I’m saving it for last is that there’s simply so much more than I need to do to finish it… Writing Every Planet will warm me up to SDR2 again, and just writing Komahina in general… I'm looking to get everything out in a timely manner, but looking back at HOpe Overnight I’m also going to want to edit and improve the first chapters- just to make them FUCKING READABLE. I want to give you nothing but the BEST for waiting so long for me, and I love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this corny tromp around in my phsyce. if you ever wanna chat I'm @imakeideasnotart that's may main blog, I'm @iwriteyousequal (My writing blog) (Requests are currently closed but I write Danganronpa, voltron, world trigger, I'm doing a scene kid AU story soon) and I'm @starterwritingworkshops (My blog I run were I give writing advice, tips, collaborate with others and overal push people to more, greater heights with their writing. It's pretty chill)
> 
> This story Updates Every Sunday and Thursday! THanks for reading!


End file.
